5f6 



I 



1910 






The YOUNGER 
GENERATION 




Photo hy\ [Schmidt. 

STANLEY HOUGHTON 



One Shilling 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION 



THE YOUNGER 
GENERATION 

A COMEDY FOR PARENTS 
IN THREE ACTS 



By 
STANLEY HOUGHTON 



Copyright, 1910, by Samuel French, Ltd 



New York [ London 

SAMUEL FRENCH j SAMUEL FRENCH Ltd 

Publisher 26 Southampton Street 

28-30 WEST 38TH STREET STRAND 



t^^'^ni 






gCI.D 22624 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION 

Produced at the Gaiety Theatre, Manchester, by Miss Horni 
man's Company, under the direction of Mr. B. Iden Payne, 
on Monday, November :ust, 1910. 

Scene. — The dining-room of James Henry Kennion's house, 
in Longton Park, a suburb of the large manufacturing town of 
Salchester. 

The action takes place at the present day, within the space of 
.24 hours. Act I., Saturday evening ; Act II., Sunday 
morning ; Act III., Sunday afternoon. 

CHARACTERS 

Mrs. Hannah Kennion (the Grandmother) 

James Henry Kennion {the Father) 

Mrs. Kennion (the Mother) 

Thomas Kennion (the Uncle) 

Arthur Kennion ^ 

Reggie Kennion I (the Children) 

Grace Kennion j 

Clifford Rawson 

Mr. Leadbitter 1 (of the Longton Park 

Mr. Fowle [ Liberal Association) 

Maggie (Maid at Mr. Kennion's) 



The Amateur Fee for each and every representa- 
tion of this play is Three Guineas, payable in advance 

to 

Messrs. Samuel French, Ltd., 
26, Southampton Street, 

Strand, London. 

who will issue a written authority for the performance. 

In the case of anybody wishing to give a repre- 
sentation of the play within a radius of ten miles 
from Manchester, it is important that this written 
authority be obtained before entering into negotia- 
tions for production, as in some instances it is possible 
that permission might be withheld. 

Any wigs or costumes used in the performance of 
The Younger Generation may be hired or purchased 
reasonably from Messrs. Chas. H. Fox, Ltd., 27, 
WeUington Street, Strand, London. 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION 



ACT I 

(Note. — In the description of the scene, and the stage 
directions, the terms " Right " and " Left " are used 
from the spectators point of view, not the actor's.) 

The dining-room of Mr. Kennion's house is a large 
oblong room, comfortable and well furnished. The 
fireplace is supposed to be in the fourth wall nearest 
the spectator ; that is to say, in the middle of the row 
of footlights. A fender and fire-irons are seen ; also 
the red glow from the fire. The door is to the right of 
the opposite wall, facing the spectator, and in the 
left of that wall there is a how window recess, which 
contains a table and two chairs. In the left-hand 
wall is an ordinary window with a sofa in front of 
it, and Clearer the spectator is a writing-desk and a 
chair. Against the right-hand wall is the sideboard, 
and lower down a small table and a chair. The oblong 
dining-tahle i&ith its longer side toward the spectator, 
is in the middle of the room, with a chair at each end 
and two on each side, pushed well under. Two 
armchairs face the fire, one on each side of the hearth- 
rug. A bowl of chrysanthemums is on the dining- 
table, and a plant in a pot on the sideboard. The 
space of wall betiveen the door and the bow window is 
occupied by an engraving of a picture by a Russian 
artist of " Christ Before Pilate," and other good 
engravings are on the walls. 



8 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

The blinds are drawn, the fire is burning, and the electnc 
lights are on, as it is late on a Saturday evening in 
Autumn. 

When the curtain rises Mr. and Mrs. Kennion are 
alone in the room. He is a middle-sized, pleasant, 
firm-looking man of 53 with a neat moustache. He 
is going grey. She is a kindly decided plump woman 
of 50. Both are thoroughly kind, well-meaning and 
honourable, though a trifle too strict in their attitude 
to their children. Mr. Kennion is, if anything, more 
lenient with Grace, and Mrs. Kennion with the 
boys. 

Mr. and Mrs. Kennion are sitting cosily in front of 
the fire. Mr. Kennion is in the left-hand armchair ; 
he is reading " The Nation," and smokes a big briar 
pipe. Copies of " The Daily News " and " The 
Salchester Guardian " lie rumpled up at his feet. 
Mrs. Kennion is in the right-hand armchair, 
reading the "Strand Magazine." They read for a 
short time. 

Mr. Kennion. I haven't heard the boys come in, 
Ahce. Have you ? 

Mrs. Kennion {looking up). No, I don't think I 
have, James. 

Mr. K. [looking at his watch). It's late ; after 
half-past ten. {He grunts and they resume reading.) 

(Maggie, a bonny, well-built housemaid, enters with a 
letter on a salver, and looks round.) 

Mr. K. a letter, Maggie ? 
Maggie. For Miss Grace, sir. 
Mr. K. {rather drily). Ah ! 

(Maggie places the letter prominently on the sideboard, 
leaning against a plant pot. Mr. a7id Mrs. Kennion 
resume their reading meanwhile, but as soon as 
Maggie has gone out and closed the door, they both 
turn and gaze at the letter. Then they look at eq-ch 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 9 

other. Mr. Kennion after a moment's hesitation 
gets up and goes to the sideboard and examines the 
letter. He takes it in his hand and then . passes it 
to his wife, ivho examines the address.) 

Mr. K. It's the same handwriting as the other 
letters. 

Mrs. K. Yes. I ought to know it. I've seen it 
somewhere. 

Mr. K. There's no doubt it's a man's. 

Mrs. K. Don't you think we ouglit to open it, 
James ? 

Mr. K. {taking it from her). No, no ; we'd better 
not do that. 

Mrs. K. What shall you do, then ? 

Mr. K. I shall ask Grace to show it to me. 

Mrs. K. Suppose she refuses. 

Mr. K. Then I shall make her show it to me. 

Mrs. K. Well, if you're going to make her show it 
you, you might just as well open it yourself. 

Mr. K. That wouldn't be quite honourable, Alice. 
I would never think of opening Grace's letters — 
unless 

Mrs. K. Unless ? 

Mr. K. Unless she refused to show them to me. 
{He replaces the letter and sits down again to " The 

Nation." Mrs. Kennion also reads again.) 

(Reggie Kennion enters ; a nice-looking, slim, irre- 
sponsible boy of 19, wearing a big overcoat and cap 
and carrying a hockey-bag. He flings the bag down, 
takes off his cap and unbuttons his coat.) 

Reggie. Hello ! All alone ? 

Mrs. K. Well, Reggie. Did you win ? 

Reggie. Win ? I should jolly well think so. 
Walked round them. 

Mr. K. Where's Arthur ? 

Reggie. I don't know. 

Mrs. K. Haven't you seen him ? 



10 THE YOUNGER CxENERATION. 

Reggie. No. He's been playing on the second, 
at home. I've been playing at Liverpool. 

Mr. K> You're very late. 

Reggie. Hang it all, dad, it's only just after ten. 

Mr. K. It is after half-past ten, Reggie. 

Reggie. I've had to come from Liverpool. 

Mr. K. It doesn't take five hours to come from 
Liverpool. 

Reggie {in an injured tone). I had to get some- 
thing to eat, hadn't I ? 

Mr. K. All right, my bo5^ I'm not going to argue 
about it. {Kindly.) You're old enough to be trusted, 
but you know I don't like you to be out too late on 
Saturday night. I can't make out where Arthur is. 

Mrs. K. {placidly). So you had something to eat 
in Liverpool, Reggie. Where did you go ? 

Reggie {confused). Oh, — er — to a — a^ — place. 

Mrs. K. I don't know why you couldn't have 
come straight home. I could have kept your tea 
for you. 

Mr. K. {trying to he chatty). Did any of the fellows 
go with you ? 

Reggie. Only Jones, our left back. He was 
captain to-day. 

Mrs. K. Did you go to a confectioner's ? 

Reggie {slowly). Er — no. 

Mrs. K. I could have told you of a very nice 
confectioner's. 

Reggie. No. A restaurant. 

Mr. K. Whereabouts ? 

Reggie. Can't say. Don't know Liverpool. 

Mr. K. What name ? 

Reggie. I forget ; Jones knew it. 

Mr. K. a teetotal place ? 

Reggie. Oh, I really don't know. What on 
earth does it matter ? 

Mrs. K. Now, Reggie, don't be so bad-tempered 
when people ask you questions. 

Reggie. Well, you're always bothering me about 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 11 

what I've been doing and where I've been. Any one 
would think there was something wrong in having 
tea in Liverpool. 

{There is an awkward pause. Mr. Kennion returns 

to his paper. Reggie strolls to the sideboard and 

looks at the letter.) 

Mrs. K. {conversationally) . Whose writing is that, 
Reggie ? 

Reggie. Clifford Rawson's, isn't it ? {He goes 
to door.) 
(Mr. and Mrs. Kennion look at each other meaningly.) 

Mrs. K. Now, Reggie, take those hockey things 
away. And your cap. 

Reggie. Oh, all right. {He picks them up.) I 
say, dad, I wanted to ask you something. 

Mr. K. Well, my boy ? 

Reggie {hesitatingly). Don't you think I might 
chuck being secretary of the Sunday School now ? 

Mrs. K. Reggie ! 

Mr. K. {amazed). You want to give up the secre- 
taryship ? What for ? Do you find the work is too 
hard ? 

Reggie. No, but it spoils a Sunday afternoon. 

Mr. K. You couldn't be better employed on a 
Sunday afternoon. 

Reggie. Well, of course, that's a matter of 
opinion. 

Mr. K. {good-temperedly) . Reggie, if you give up 
the Sunday School I shall be very grieved. 

Reggie {grumbling). It's enough to make a fellow 
want to emigrate. 

Mrs. K. Good gracious, Reggie ! 

Reggie. I wish I could go to Canada, like Tommy 
Leslie. 

Mr. K. He went because he could do no good here. 

Mrs. K. And he travelled steerage. 

Reggie. I had a picture postcard from him last 
week, showing him milking a cow. 



12 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

Mrs. K. {chaffing). If you want to milk cows there's 
no need to go to Canada. 

Reggie. He's out in the fields at five every 
morning. 

Mr. K. {also chaffing him). That wouldn't suit 
you. I've hard work to get you up by half-past eight. 

Reggie. Rot ! It's fine ; it's a man's Hfe. 
(Mr. and Mrs. Kennion go on reading. A pause.) 

Reggie {at last). Then I've got to keep on at the 
Sunday School. 

Mr. K. You know perfectly well I don't wish you 
to give it up. 

Reggie {sulkily). I shall write and ask Tommy 
Leslie if he can get me a job in Canada. {He waits for 
the result of this bombshell, but it has no effect. So he 
turns to go out.) 

Mrs. K. {still reading). Don't forget to take your 
hockey-bag with you, Reggie. 

{He picks it up pettishly, and his coat and cap.) 

Mr. K. {quietly). You're not going out again to- 
night, Reggie ? 

Reggie. No, of course not. 

(Reggie goes out.) 

Mrs. K. Reggie's always talking about Canada 
nowadays. I hope he doesn't mean anything by it. 

Mr. K. Rubbish, Alice. If Reggie went to 
Canada we should have him whining for his passage 
money back in three months. 

Mrs. K. I can't understand what he can see in 
milking cows. 

Mr. K. He. only wants to get away from the 
restrictions of home. It's a phase all young fellows 
go through ; I've been through it myself. 

(Grace, a well-built, capable, handsome girl of nearly 
23, comes in with a tray, ivhich contains a coffee- 
jug, five cups and saucers, biscuits and butter and 
plates and knives, etc.) 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION 13 

Grace. The boys have come in, haven't they ? 
Mrs. K. Only Reggie. 

Grace. Hasn't Arthur come ? How late he is. 
Mr. K. {looking at his watch). I can't understand it. 
Mrs. K. I think there's a letter for you there. 

(Grace puts the tray on the table and goes to the letter. 

She glances at it and then tucks it in her belt, unopened. 

Mrs. K. [placidly). Who's it from, dear ? 

Grace {after a second's hesitation). From Miss 
Baker. About the bazaar, I expect. 

Mr. K. {sternly, putting down his paper). Grace, 
that letter is not from Miss Baker. 

Grace {startled). Father ! 

Mr. K. You know it's not, don't you? {She does 
not answer.) Come, Grace. {Still no reply). Grace, 
will you show me that letter ? 

Grace. I don't think you've any right to insist 
on seeing my letters, father. 

Mr. K. {kindly but firmly). I am not insisting, 
Grace. I'm asking you to allow me. 

Grace. I'm twenty-two, father. 

Mr. K. Are you ashamed to show it me ? 
{After a moment's pause Grace quickly hands Mr. 
Kennion the letter.) 

Grace. I'm certainly not ashamed. 

Mr. K. Thank you. {He tears the envelope open.) 
Remember, I'm opening this with your permission, 
Grace. {She does not reply ; he glances through the 
letter and then reads it aloud to Mrs. Kennion) : — 

" Darling Grace, Just a line to tell you that 
I'm not going away for the week-end after all. 
So I will meet you after Sunday School, as usual. 
"Dearest love, 

' ' Your own 

" Clifford." 
{There is a long pause.) 
Grace. Can I have my letter, please ? 



14 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

Mr. K. {giving it her). It is from Clifford Rawson, 
I suppose. 

Grace. Yes. 

Mr. K. Now, will you tell us, your mother and 
me, how it is that Clifford Rawson comes to be writing 
a letter like that to you ? 

Grace. He wanted to let me know that he'd meet 
me to-morrow, I suppose 

Mr. K. " As usual," he says. He has been meet- 
ing you frequently ? 

Grace. Yes. 

Mr. K. Why? 

Grace. Well, father, if j^ou can't understand ! 
I suppose you used to meet mother. 

Mrs. K. {with some heat). I never met your father 
secretly, Grace. Especially after teaching a Sunday 
School class. 

Mr. K. You mean that young Rawson and you 
are fond of each other ? 

Grace. Yes. 

Mr. K. Are you engaged ? 

Grace. No, not exactly. I told Clifford he'd have 
to ask you first. 

Mr. K. I'm glad to hear that, at any rate. Well, 
Grace, I can understand a boy and girl being fond of 
each other. I can understand your being fond of 
young Rawson, though I haven't too good an opinion 
of him myself. But I cannot understand your meet- 
ing him secretly like this, and above all, your telling 
me a deliberate lie^ — a lie — about that letter. ^ 

Grace. It's entirely your own fault, father. 

Mr. K. {amazed). My fault ! 

Mrs. K. {scandalized). Grace ! 

Grace. We had to keep it secret because you're 
so strict that you never would let me meet a boy alone. 

Mrs. K. I should think not, indeed. 

Grace. How can you get to know any one well 
enough to find out you want to be engaged to him 
unless you see a good deal of him first ? 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 15 

Mr. K. {slightly puzzled). You've always had 
plenty of opportunities of meeting your brothers' 
friends here at home, and young men at the tennis 
club, and — and at the chapel. 

Grace {quietly). That's not quite the same thing, 
is it? 

{A slight pause.) 

Mr. K. {rising). Well, Grace, you're a woman now, 
and I can't treat you as I could have done two or 
three years ago. I shan't say any more about the 
way you've gone about this affair, but you've upset 
your mother and me very much. 

{He seems to expect an expyession of regret, but Grace 
doesn't speak.) 

However, that's over and we'll try and forget all about 
it. Then I am to understand that Clifford Rawson 
wants my consent to your engagement ? 

Grace. Yes. 

Mr. K. Now I don't promise to give it, you under- 
stand. 

(Grace looks mutinous, as if she ivill do without it.) 

I shall have to think about it, and talk it over with 
your mother. And I must speak to Arthur about 
Clifford ; I must know a great deal more about him 
than I do at present. 

Mrs. K. You must see him at once, James. 

Mr. K. Certainly ; I shall write to-night and ask 
him to come and see me to-morrow. 

Grace. Will you let me write and ask him, father ? 

Mr. K. You ? Very well, if you prefer. 

Grace. I do. {She goes to the door.) What time 
to-morrow ? 

Mr. K. In the afternoon. 

Grace. I'll write at once. (Grace goes out.) 

Mrs. K. James ! Who would have believed it ? 

Mr. K. I'm sorry to find that Grace has been 



16 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

deceiving us ; but we must be very thankful it's no 
worse. 

Mrs. K. You must make inquiries about Clifford. 

Mr. K. I shall ask Arthur. He's a friend of 
Clifford's, and I shall be guided to a great extent by 
his opinion of his character. 

Mrs. K. The great thing is to find out whether 
he's steady. I have heard that he comes home very 
late sometimes. 

Mr. K. Arthur will know. We must rely on him. 

Mrs. K. Where is Arthur ; he's not come in yet ? 

Mr. K. I hope there's not been an accident. 

(Maggie comes in.) 

Maggie. If you please, sir, there's a gentleman to 
see you. 

Mr. K. Who is it ? 

Maggie. He wouldn't give his name, sir. He's 
in the hall. 

(Mr. Kennion goes out puzzled, followed by Maggie. 
His voice is almost immediately heard in the hall, 
raised in joyous surprise.) 

Mr. K. Tom ! Why, good gracious, it's Tom ! 

(Mrs. Kennion, who has been listening, rises from her 
chair, as Mr. Kennion, like a schoolboy, reappears 
dragging in Thomas Kennion by the hand. Thomas 
is a stouter, more genial edition of his brother.) 

Mr. K. Alice, look who's turned up. 

Mrs. K. Tom ! Well, this is a surprise. 

Tom. Yes, I meant it to be. {He greets Mrs. 
Kennion heartily.) I had to come across to London 
on business, and I wasn't sure whether I should have 
time to get down here to see you, so I didn't write. 

Mr. K. It's five years, Tom, since we saw you 
last. 

Tom. Yes. Time flies, doesn't it ? 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 17 

Mrs. K. It's too bad of you not to come over 
oftener. It isn't very far from Hamburg to here. 

Tom. It's no further from here to Hamburg. 
Why don't you come and see me, Jim, you lazy 
beggar ? 

Mr. K. I've been intending to for years. 

Tom. And how are you all ? 

Mrs. K. Splendid. 

Tom. The children ? 

Mr. K. Tut, tut ; they are grown up, you forget. 

Tom. By gad, so they are. 

Mr. K. There's only Reggie still under 21 ; and 
you'd never guess it from his behaviour. 

Mrs. K. You'd like a bit of supper, Tom, I dare 
say. 

Tom. No thanks, I had dinner in the train. 

Mrs. K. Coffee, then ? 

Tom. If it's not troubling you 

Mrs. K. Oh, it's ready here. (Mrs. Kennion 
pours two cups of coffee.) We always enjoy a cup of 
coffee in the evening. 

Mr. K. What will you smoke, Tom ? 

Tom. I'll try some of your tobacco, thanks, Jim. 
(Mr. Kennion hands Ms pouch and Tou fills his pipe.) 

Mrs. K. Do you like a feather mattress ? 

Tom. What for ? 

Mrs. K. To sleep on, of course. I must go and 
see about your room. 

Tom. Don't you trouble. Sleep in the bath if 
necessary. 

Mrs. K. It isn't necessary. We have a spare 
bedroom. 

(Mrs. Kennion goes out smiling.) 

Tom {sitting in the left armchair). I should like to 
go round to-night and see mother for a few minutes, 
if it's not too late. 

Mr. K. Not at all. She never goes to bed till 
eleven. A wonderful old woman, Tom, 



18 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

Tom. Seventy-five last birthday, wasn't she ? 

Mr. K. Seventy-six. 

Tom. And she writes to me regularly, once a 
month. 

Mr. K. She keeps you well posted up in what's 
going on here ? 

Tom. Yes. There's always a bit about you, and 
a bit about herself and a good deal about the chapel. 

Mr. K. She goes to service morning and evening 
on Sundays. She even kept her Bible Class on until 
last year. 

Tom. Amazing ! Still I can't help feeling that 
she seems to regard the chapel as the hub of the 
universe. 

Mr. K. It is the principal interest in her life. 

Tom. Curious how one gets rid of that point of 
view living abroad. 

Mr. K. {smiling). That was mother's chief objec- 
tion to your going abroad at first. Do you remem- 
ber ? 

Tom. Rather. We had a bit of a tussle over it, 
hadn't we ? Even now I suspect she thinks of Ger- 
many as an ungodly place inhabited by rather light- 
minded people. 

Mr. K. Well, Tom, you know, we can't exactly 
approve of the way they spend Sunday in Germany, 

Tom {laughing heartily). The Continental Sunday, 
eh ? Ha, ha ! 

Mr. K. {gravely). I think the English way is best, 
Tom, 

Tom. Yes, and you think old England's the finest 
country in the world, and that Salchester, dirty old 
Salchester, the most beautiful city in England, and 
that the chapel's the noblest institution in Sal- 
chester. 

Mr. K. {very seriously). Well, Tom, if I do 

Tom {heartily). Don't apologise for it. That's 
the spirit that has made England what it is. 

Mr. K. {pleased). Do you really think so ? 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 19 

Tom (seriously). I do. Thank God I haven't got 
it. 

{Enter Reggie very sedately.) 

Reggie. How do you do, Uncle Tom ? 
Tom. Hello, young man. {Shaking hands.) It's 
Arthur, isn't it ? 

Reggie (pleased). No, I'm Reggie. I'm not sur- 
prised at your mistake ; lots of people think I look 
older than Arthur. 

Tom. Reggie, of course ! And where's Arthur ? 
Reggie. Not come in yet. 

Mr. K. I can't make out where he's got to. It's 
so late. 

Tom. Late ? Why it isn't eleven yet. Your 
hotels and places don't close till eleven, do they ? 

Mr. K. (in amazement). Hotels ? Why ? 

Tom. Thought he might be having a drink some- 
where, that's all. 

Mr. K. (after a pause). I should be very sorry to 
think that either Arthur or Reggie was in the habit 
of frequenting hotels. 

Tom (surprised). Why, what's wrong with them ? 

Mr. K. Wrong with them ! Wrong with hotels ! 
Er — well, I suppose there's nothing wrong with them 
if they are properly conducted ; but you forget that 
Arthur and Reggie are only boys. 

Reggie. I say, father. I shall be twenty-one in 
less than two years. 

Tom. You're in a bank, aren't you, Reggie ? 

Reggie. Yes. 

Tom (to Mr. Kennion.) And Arthur's still with 
you at the warehouse ? 

Mr. K. Yes. 

Tom. And how do yon like the bank, Reggie ? 

Reggie. Rotten. 

Tom. How's that ? 

Reggie. Oh, there's no romance about it. 

Tom. After all, there isn't intended to be. 



20 THE YOtJKGER GENERATION. 

Reggie. What I want is a man's life. 
Tom. What do you call " a man's life " ? 
Reggie {airily). Oh, you know. Riding round 
on a horse and ordering people about. 
Tom. You find it slow in the bank ? 
Reggie. Slow's not the word. And what chance 
has a fellow of getting on ? 

Mr. K. You've the chance of becoming a bank 
manager in time. 

Reggie. A bank manager ! Now I ask you, 
Uncle Tom, what is a bank manager ? 

Tom. a man who manages a bank, I suppose. 

Reggie. I mean what sorl of a man ? Why, a 
fat, bald, old beggar with side whiskers. A cliap who 
couldn't kill a grizzly bear to save his life. Couldn't 
run away from one even. I tell you I'm sick of 
Salchester. You don't think you could find me a 
place in Hamburg, uncle ? 

Tom. I'm afraid even Hamburg wouldn't be excit- 
ing enough to suit your requirements. 

(Mrs. Kennion enters followed by Grace.) 

Mrs. K. Tom, here's Grace. 

Tom {rising). How d'you do, my dear. Too big 
to kiss ? 

Grace {smiling). No, uncle. {She offers him her 
cheek, which he kisses.) How jolly of you to turn up 
like this. 

Tom {holding her left hand and examining the third 
finger). Not engaged yet, I see. 

Grace. No. 

Mr. K. Er, no. 

{An awkward -pause. Grace looks at her father.) 

Tom. You must hurry up, my dear. 

Grace {looking at Mr. Kennion). I've sent that 
letter to the post. 

Mr. K. Very well. 

Mrs. K. But wherever is Arthur ? 

Reggie. Perhaps he's at Clifford Rawson's. 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 21 

Mr. K. You'd better go round and see, if he 
doesn't turn up soon. 

(Maggie comes in.) 

Maggie. Please, sir, Mr. Leadbitter and Mr. Fowle 
would like to have a word with you, if it isn't too late. 

Mr. K. Leadbitter and Fowle. Certainly. Ask 
them to come in. 

Tom. Look here, Fll slip round to see mother now. 

Mr. K. Very well ; it's only round the corner ; 
she's moved you know. 

Grace. Reggie and I will go with you, uncle, and 
show you the way. 

Tom. Right you are. 

(Maggie shows in Mr. Leadbitter, a thin, ascetic, 
doctrinaire person ; and Mr. Fowle, a stout, fleshy, 
rubicund man.) 

Mr. K. {shaking hands with them). How do you do ? 

Mr. Lead. Good-evening, Mrs. Kennion. 

Mr. Fowle {genially). Hope we don't intrude so 
late. 

Mrs. K. Not at all. 

Mr. K. Let me introduce my brother from Ger- 
many, Mr. Thomas Kennion ; Mr. Leadbitter and 
Mr. Fowle. 

Mr. Lead, {shaking hands). Very pleased to meet 
you, sir. 

Mr. Fowle {jovially). Tom Kennion ! {Taking his 
hand.) I remember giving you a black eye when we 
were at the Grammar School together. 

Tom. I think it was /who gave you the black eye. 

Mr. Fowle. Was it ? Perhaps you're right. I 
forget. 

Mr. Lead. We just wanted to have a word with 
you, Kennion. 

Tom. Fm off. Come along, Grace, Reggie. 

Mr. Fowle. We're not driving you away ? 



22 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

Tom. Not at all ; going round to my mother's. 
We shall be back before you've gone, I daresay. 

(Grace, Reggie and Tom go out.) 

Mrs. K. You want to have a talk with James, I 
suppose ? 

Mr. Lead. Only for a moment. 

Mrs. K. {suddenly afraid). It's nothing about 
Arthur ? 

Mr. Lead. Arthur ? No ; why ? 

Mrs. K. {relieved). I thought there might have 
been an accident, that's all. {She goes out.) 

Mr. K. {indicating the armchairs). Now then, sit 
down. 

{He unlocks the sideboard cupboard with a key on his 
ring, and produces a box of cigars, a bottle of whisky, 
a syphon of soda and a glass.) 

Mr. K. {offering cigars). Cigar ? 

Mr. Lead. Thanks. 

Mr. Fowle. I don't mind if I do. 

Mr. K. You're a teetotaler, Leadbitter ? 

Mr. Lead. Entirely. 

Mr. Fowle. So are you, Kennion, aren't you ? 

Mr. K. Yes ; but I keep a drop for my friends. 

Mr. Fowle {seeing the li'hisky). Aha ! That's the 
right spirit. 

Mr. K. Help yourself, Fowle. 

Mr. Fowle. I don't mind if I do. {He mixes a 
stiff whisky and soda and returns with it to his chair. 
Mr. Kennion turns round one of the chairs which are 
pushed under the dining-table a7id sits on it, between the 
armchairs, facing the fire. 

Mr. Lead. What did your wife mean about 
Arthur ? 

Mr. K. He's not come in yet. And she's a bit 
anxious, as it's getting late. 

Mr. Fowle. Late ! You should see the time my 



THE YOITNGER GENERATION. 23 

lad Alan comes home. One or two in the morning 
sometimes. I pretend not to notice anything, but of 
course I've a pretty good idea what he's been up to. 

Mr. K. (amazed). But why do you allow it ? 

Mr. Fowle. Why not ? ;Boys will be boys ; 
that's only natural, you know. Besides, I've been 
young myself. 

Mr. K, Surely it's a father's duty to 

Mr. Fowle {interrupting). To keep his eyes shut. 

Mr. K. I hold stricter views. 

Mr. Lead. Of course you do, my dear Kennion. 
So do I. Your views are unimpeachable ; and it is 
for that reason that you find us here to-night. 

Mr. K. [looking from one to the other). I don't 
understand. 

Mr. Lead. You are probably surprised to see us 
at this unearthly hour. We are on our way home 
from a meeting of the Council of the Liberal Associa- 
tion, where a decision has been arrived at that Fowle 
and I thought it advisable to acquaint you with 
immediately. 

Mr. Fowle. Admirably put, old chap, but a little 
formal. Kennion isn't a public meeting, you know. 

Mr. Lead {piqued). Ask him yourself then. 

Mr. Fowle. To cut matters short, we want to 
adopt you as Liberal Candidate for Longton Park 
Ward at the City Council Elections in November. 

Mr. K. Me ? {He rises.) Gentlemen ! My dear 
Leadbitter,- — my dear Fowle ! {He sits again.) I 
am overwhelmed. 

Mr. Fowle. Never mind that ; will you stand ? 

Mr. K. Will I stand ? {He rises again mechani- 
cally). Upon my word, I don't know what to say. 
I shall have to think about it ; to talk it over with my 
wife. But believe me, I appreciate the honour^ — 
immensely. 

Mr. Lead. We should like to have your decision 
not later than Monday evening. 

Mr. K. But why do you ask me ? To win the 



24 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

seat from Grignall we shall need a very strong man 
indeed. 

Mr. Lead. We are of opinion that you are a 
strong man, Kennion. 

Mr. Fowle. You see it's like this. The Noncon- 
formist element is damn powerful in this ward. Now 
you're a big gun at your chapel and that'll rake in a lot 
of votes. I'm a Churchman myself, but I see that 
without the Nonconformist vote the Liberal Party 
here would be in the soup. Then Grignall's a brewer 
and you're a teetotaler ; if we work it properly — 
temperance reform and social purity and all that 
game — we shall detach some of the temperance 
Conservatives. 

Mr. K. Are there any temperance Conservatives ? 

Mr. Lead. In Municipal Elections, yes. Not in 
Parliamentary Elections. 

Mr. Fowle. Down with the publican ; down 
with the brewer. That's the line we want to take. 
Good health ! (He drinks.) 

Mr. Lead. Yes. Emphasize the fact that drunk- 
enness is the cause of poverty. 

Mr. K. {timidly). But some people say that 
poverty is the cause of drunkenness, don't they ? 

Mr. Lead. We can afford to ignore them ; it's 
only Socialists who say that. 

Mr. Fowle. Besides, hang it all what does it 
matter what we say ? Between ourselves — all friends 
here — what we care about is knocking Grignall out, 
not about reforming social conditions. 

Mr. Lead. I don't altogether agree with you, Fowle. 

Mr. K. I don't agree with you at all. I do care 
about improving the condition of the poor and help- 
ing them to keep out of temptation. If I'm to be 
your candidate that must be understood. 

Mr. Lead. By all means. 

Mr. Fowle. All the better. If you're so much in 
earnest you'll be all the stronger as a candidate. 
There's no harm at all in meaning what you say. 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 25 

Mr. Lead. The people who don't mean what they 
say are the bane of pohtics. 

Mr. Fowle. Now, don't be so sweeping, Lead- 
bitter. {Rising ta get some more whisky.) Weh, I 
think it's a damn good wheeze putting you up. Reu- 
nion. You're not too intellectual, like Leadbitter 
here ; you're the sort of honest, straightforward man 
that electors take to at meetings. It's my own idea ; 
you've got me to thank for it. Good health. {He 
drinks.) 

Mr. K. I'm very much obliged to you and Lead- 
bitter and all of you. If I accept your invitation 

Mr. Fowle. You've got to. 

Mr. K. Well, I don't think there's much doubt — 
you may rely on my putting up the best fight I can 
for you. 

Mr. Lead. I'm sure you will. 

Mr. Fowle. Good luck to Councillor Kennion ! 
{He drinks the toast, as Mrs. Kennion enters.) 

Mrs. K. What are you talking about, Mr. Fowle ? 

Mr. K. They want me to stand for the City Council, 
my dear. 

Mrs. K. {excitedly). Oh, James ! How splendid ! 
You will, won't you ? 

Mr. Fowle. There you are, Kennion. She's 
settled it for you, 

Mr. K. I don't see why not. 

(Tom Kennion enters i&ith Grace and Reggie.) 

Tom. Hello, what's the excitement ? 

Mrs. K. Tom, what do you think ? 

Mr. R. Hush, hush, Alice. 

Mrs. R. I must tell them. James is going to 
put up for the Council. 

Tom. Bravo ! 

Reggie. Hooray ! ! 

Mr. R. You mustn't go just yet, you two. Sit 
down again, 

B 



26 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

Mr. Lead. It is late 



Mr. K. Never mind, once in a way. 

[They pull out chairs, and form a big circle round the 
fire ; the men smoking.) 

Tom. Now then, Jim ; what about music in the 
parks on Sunday. No voting against that, I hope. 

Mr. K. {with warmth). I defend music in the parks. 
It keeps people out of the public houses. 

Tom. You might say that of bull-fighting or foot- 
ball. 

Reggie. I don't see why there shouldn't be Sun- 
day football. 

Mr. K. There are many things you don't see yet, 
my son. 

Mrs. K. Fancy you a Councillor, James. 

Mr. Fowle. It may not stop at that. 

Tom. Alderman ! 

Mr. Lead. Lord Mayor ! 

Mrs. K. a knighthood ! 

Mr. Fowle. And you'd be Lady Mayoress, Mrs. 
Kennion. 

Mrs. K. So I should. 

Tom. That may not be the end of it. Member of 
Parliament perhaps. 

Mrs. K. James ! 

Tom. The Cabinet ; a peerage ! Think of Cham- 
berlain. 

Reggie [coolly). Aren't you all a little previous. 
Father may not be elected at all. 

Mr. K. Of course. We're all talking nonsense, we 
know that. But it's very pleasant to be sitting here 
round the fire talking nonsense for once in a way. 

Tom. Wait till you're in the Council. You'll be 
able to talk it as much as you like then. 

Mrs. K. Won't grandma be surprised } and 
Arthur ? 

Mr. K. By thejway, where is Arthur ? {Looks 
at his watch.) Half-past^eleven ! 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 27 

Mrs. K. He's never been so late before. 
Reggie. Hist ! Some one now ! 

{They all become absolutely silent and listen. A slight 
scuffling noise is heard in the hall, and then Maggie's 
voice, distinctly) : — 

Maggie. Now, do behave yourself, will you ? 

{The noise is repeated.) 

Go straight upstairs to bed, now. Do, for goodness 
sake ! 

{After another slight scuffle the door is sivung open vio- 
lently, and Arthur Kennion, a handsome tall boy of 
twenty-one, with a strong face, appears hanging on to 
the handle. He is completely and benignantly drunk. 
He smiles round on the assembly and with an erratic 
wave of his hand says, " Hello ! " Maggie hovers 
in the background. The curtain falls in a complete 
silence of horror.) 



ACT II. 

The same room early the following morning. Breakfast 
is laid for six ; a cold tongue is on the table ; but 
nothing hot, for no one is down yet. 

(Mr. Kennion dressed in his Sunday best, except that 
he wears a comfortable house-jacket in place of his 
frock-coat, enters the room briskly, looks round, goes 
to the bell and rings. Maggie enters after a moment.) 
Mr. Kennion. Breakfast ready, Maggie ? 
Maggie. Yes, sir. 

(Maggie goes out, and Mr. Kennion takes a small piece^ 
of paper from his pocket, studies it and places it 
beside his plate on the table. The gong in the hall is 
rung loudly. Grace enters.) 

Grace. Good-morning, father. 

Mr. K. Good-morning, Grace. [They meet tn 
front of the fire, and Mr. Kennion kisses her.) 

Grace. How is mother ? 

Mr. K. Had rather a bad night. She isn't com- 
ing down for breakfast. 

Grace [sorry). Oh ! 

Mr. K. No. She's still too upset to come down. 
Will you let Maggie take breakfast to her room ? See 
to it yourself, dear, see that it's nice. 

Grace. I'll go now. 
(Grace goes out just as Maggie with the tray enters. 

Maggie sets a dish of bacon and eggs at one end of 

the table and a big coffee-pot at the other. Toast also 

she brings.) 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 29 

Mr. K. Ah, here we are. {He sits down at the 
left-hand end of the table.) 
Just pour out my coffee, Maggie. 

Maggie. Miss Grace is down, sir. 

Mr. K. I know ; she's seeing after your mistress's 
breakfast. 

Maggie. Yes, sir. (Maggie pours out a cup of 
coffee.) 

(Mr. Kennion helps himself to bacon and eggs and 
begins breakfast.) 

Mr. K. While I have the opportunity, I should 
like to tell you how sorry I am for what happened 
last night. 

Maggie. What happened last night ? {She looks 
puzzled.) 

Mr. K. For what Mr. Arthur did. 

Maggie {passing the cup). What Mr. Arthur did, 
sir? 

Mr. K. {irritably). Come, come ; what did Mr. 
Arthur do ? 

Maggie {tolerantly) . Oh nothing, sir. 

Mr. K. Nothing ? 

Maggie. Nothing to speak of. 

Mr. K. But I distinctly heard you say, " Now, 
do behave yourself." 

Maggie {reluctantly). Perhaps I did, sir. 

Mr. K. What did you say that for, if he wasn't 
doing anything ? 

Maggie. Well, of course, he was trying to kiss me, 
sir. 

Mr. K. Ah, that is what I thought. Maggie, I 
am deeply shocked. It is the first time a woman has 
ever been insulted under my roof. I will see that 
Mr. Arthur apologizes to you, at once. 

Maggie. Oh, sir, I shouldn't like him to do that. 

Mr. K. No self-respecting girl could be content 
with anything less. 



30 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

Maggie. You see, sir, Mr. Arthur was a little jolly 
last night ; and after all, he only offered to kiss me. 

Mr. K. Good gracious, isn't that bad enough. 

Maggie. Believe me, sir. I don't mind it at all. 

Mr. K. (warmly). Don't mind it ! But you've 
got to mind it, girl. 

Maggie. I'd much rather you'd let it rest. 

Mr. K. Not on any account. It's a matter of 
principle with me. Mr. Arthur has got to apologize 
to you, before everybody. 

Maggie. I couldn't listen to him, sir. 

Mr. K. But I shall insist on your listening. 

Maggie [on the verge of tears). Oh, sir. Don't 
humiliate me before everybody. 

Mr. K. [thoroughly aggravated). Don't you see, girl, 
that you have been humiliated before everybody, and 
that's why I insist upon this apology having the same 
publicity. 

Maggie (obstinately). No, sir. 

Mr. K. Don't argue with me about it, Maggie. 
I am your master, and you will have to do what I tell 
you. 

Maggie. I'd rather leave first, sir. 

Mr. K. Don't talk nonsense. 

Maggie. I don't mind being kissed by any one, 
even by you, sir ; but when it comes to being apolo- 
gized to before everybody, just as if I'd done some- 
thing wrong. . . . 

Mr. K. (throwing himself hack in his chair angrily. 
Tchah ! 

Maggie. I'd rather give you notice now, sir, 

Mr. K. (quite rudely). Very well, give me notice, 
then. (She is going out when he speaks sharply). 
Tell Miss Grace her breakfast's getting cold. 

Maggie. Yes, sir. (She goes out. Mr. Kennion 
eats his breakfast in a perturbed way, and taking up the 
piece of paper from the table studies it irritably.) 

(Grace comes in.) 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 31 

Mr. K. Bacon, Grace ? 

Grace. I'll have some tongue, thanks. 

(Mr. Kennion cuts and passes the tongue and Grace 
pours herself some coffee. She sits opposite Mr. 
Kennion at the right hand end of the table.) 

Mr. K. Maggie has just given me notice. 

Grace. Maggie ? Oh, after last night, I suppose. 

Mr. K. Not exactly. She prefers to go rather 
than receive a public apology from Arthur. 

Grace {after a pause). But if she doesn't want an 
apology- ■ 

Mr. K. I want her to have one. Not so much for 
her sake, mind, as Arthur's. It will be good disci- 
pline for him. 

Grace. Did you say anything to Arthur last 
night ? 

Mr. K. I found it impossible last night. At first 
he persisted in trying to shake hands with me, and 
after that he became violently — er^ — ill. I am very 
much upset about this, Grace. I've been awake most 
of the night thinking it over. I'm thankful your 
grandmother wasn't here ; I think it would have 
killed her. The most unfortunate part of the whole 
business was Leadbitter and Fowle seeing it all. 

Grace. I don't suppose Mr. Fowle would be very 
shocked. He's used to that sort of thing with his 
son Alan. 

Mr. K. That's it ! I'd just let Fowle see dis- 
tinctly what I thought of his way of managing his 
boy ; and then, on top of that, Arthur conies in in 
this condition. Disgusting ! 

(Grace can hardly repress a smile.) 

Then, of course, there was Mr. Leadbitter. He 
must have been terribly shocked ; a very strong 
teetotaler. 

Grace. It can't be helped now, father ; after all, 
it doesn't matter as much as it would if they went to 
the chapel. 



32 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

Mr. K. But don't you see they've asked me to 
stand for the Council just because of my views on the 
drink question ? And now, after that — oh, it's most 
ignominious ! 

Grace. I dare say they'll keep quiet about it. 
Mr. K. Of course they'll keep quiet about it if 
they are running me as a temperance candidate. But 
that doesn't alter the fact that I can't command their 
respect as I did. What do you think Fowle had the 
impertinence to say as he was going ? He dug me in 
the ribs and said, " Never mind, old chap, you'll soon 
get used to it." And I couldn't even answer him 
back. 

Grace. Some more coffee, father ? 
Mr. K. No, thank you. I'll have some marma- 
lade. Then of course, Grace, this business makes it 
awkward for me to meet Clifford Rawson this after- 
noon. I wish he weren't coming to-day. 
Grace. Why ? 

Mr. K. Because I intended to talk to Arthur 
about him ; to ask him if Clifford is steady. Now, 
of course, I should not be inclined to place much 
reliance in Arthur's opinion. 

Grace. It's very unfair to mix Clifford up with, 
this. 

Mr. K. I'm not doing, my dear. Though now I 
come to think of it I shouldn't be surprised if Clifford 
had been mixed up in it, 
Grace. Father ! 

Mr. K. He is a great friend of Arthur's. I shall 
certainly ask Clifford what he was doing last night. 
Grace. It is very unkind of you to be so prejudiced 
against him. 

Mr. K. If he is innocent he will have no difficulty 
in telling me what he was doing. I am not going to 
let you be engaged to him until I have made the full- 
est inquiries. It's not surprising that I should be 
suspicious when I find out that my own three children 
have been deceiving me, 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 33 

Grace. I thought you weren't going to say any 
more about that, father. 

Mr. K. No, I won't. But there's Arthur as well ; 
and now, I may inform you, Reggie. 

Grace. What has Reggie been doing ? 

Mr. K. You will know in good time. Just ring 
that gong again. 

(Grace goes into the hall and bangs the gong very loudly 
and long. Mr. Kennion fills his pipe, still at the 
table, though he has now finished breakfast.) 

Mr. K. That's enough, Grace ! 
Grace {returning). I expect they're all asleep. 
Mr. K. You'd better have this bacon sent out to 
keep warm for your uncle. 

(Grace rings the hell.) 

By the way, you won't be going to Sunday School this 
afternoon, Grace, if Clifford is coming ? 

Grace. I think not. 

Mr. K. No. Better not. 

(Reggie enters, buttoning up his waistcoat.) 

Reggie. Morning, everybody. [Goes to table.) 
I say, this bacon's cold. 
Mr. K. That's your fault. 
Reggie. I'll have some tongue. 

(Mr. Kennion cuts tongue for Reggie. Maggie 
enters.) 

Grace. Take the bacon and eggs and keep it 
warm till I ring. 

(Maggie takes the dish and goes out.) 

Mr. K. You're very late, sir. 

Reggie {sitting, facing the fire, on the chair nearer 
to Grace). The gong's only just gone. 

Mr.. K. For the second time. 

Reggie. I didn't hear it. (Grace gives Reggie 
coffee.) Fm jolly hungry. 



3t THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

Mr. K. [dangerously civil). Didn't you have a 
good meal last night at that teetotal restaurant that 
you've forgotten the name of ? 

Reggie [looking at him curiously). Yes. Pretty 
fair. 

Mr. K. [quietly). After I locked up last night I 
found a paper on the hall floor, underneath the peg on 
which your overcoat was hung up, it had evidently 
fallen out of the pocket. 

(Reggie stares at Mr. Kennion.) 

It was a bill with the heading Hornet Hotel, Liver- 
pool. 

(Reggie noiselessly ejaculates " Damn.") 
I have it here. I'll read it. " Two sherry and bitters, 
one shilling. Two table d'hote dinners at half a 
crown, five shillings. One flask of Chianti, No. 74, 
three and sixpence. Coffees, eightpence. Liqueurs, 
one shilling. Cigars, one shilling. Total for two 
persons, nine shillings and eightpence." 

[He lays the hill down and looks at Reggie, who has 
been eating stolidly with his eyes on the plate.) 

Reggie. I don't see that you ought to read my 
private papers. 

Mr. K. It is yours then ? I thought so, since 
you were the only member of the family at Liverpool 
yesterday. Now I ask you whether you don't con- 
sider it an extravagance to pay — how much — er, nine 
and eightpence 

Reggie. More. 

Mr. K. More ? 

Reggie. Gave the waiter a bob. 

Mr. K. Gave the waiter a bob. Of course ; in 
your position you would do. Ten and eightpence for 
a meal for two persons. Five and fourpence each ! 

Reggie. It's not out of the way for dinner. 

Mr. K. You could have got a very good meat tea 
for a shilling. 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 35 

Reggie, I don't like meat teas. 

Mr. K. You're accustomed to them at home. 

Reggie. That's no reason why I should go look- 
ing for them when I'm away. 

Mr. K. I don't know what the j^ounger generation 
is coming to. Do you know that the money you 
two boys spent on one dinner would have kept a 
working man and his family for a whole week ? 

Reggie. Well, I dare say the money some people 
spend on one dinner would keep a working man and 
his family for a whole year. 

Mr. K. But it's not so much the extravagance. 
It's that you should deliberately go to an hotel, and 
drink wine ! Wine, a boy of your age ! And worst 
of all, that you should come home and lie about it. 

Reggie. You're so unreasonable. It's better to 
keep some things from you. 

Mr. K. Be quiet, sir. Grace tells me an untruth, 
then you come in and do the same. The only good 
thing about Arthur's affair is that he didn't tell a lie 
about it. 

Reggie. That wasn't his fault. He wasn't in a 
position to. There's no knowing what he'd have 
done if he'd been sober. 

Mr. K. I am hoping that this wretched business of 
Arthur's may be a lesson to you ; and that is why I 
am not going to say much more. {He rises and speaks 
with some emotion.) You are approaching the criti- 
cal years of your life, when you will form habits and 
friendships that will determine what sort of a man 
you will be. I pray that you will grow up a good 
man, Reggie, a Christian man ; and it is my duty to 
watch over you to the best of my ability. 

[A pause. Mr. Kennion is slightly moved ; and 
Reggie is slightly ashamed and cannot say anything.) 

Grace. If you're going up to mother, ask her if 
she wants any more toast, father. 



36 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

Mr. K. {recalled to earth). Eh! Er — yes, I will. 
(Mr. Kennion goes out.) 

Reggie {grumbling). I wish father wouldn't pray 
over me. It's taking a mean advantage of a fellow. 
I can't answer him back like I can when he's angry. 

Grace. I suppose it makes you feel ashamed of 
yourself. 

Reggie. All right ; you don't need to take up such 
a high and mighty attitude. You've been doing some- 
thing wrong yourself, it appears. 

(Grace haughtily rises from the table without answering 
and sits in the left-hand armchair before the fire.) 

I suppose he's caught you messing about with Clifford 
Rawson, and you've been telling fibs about it. 

Grace. Will you please mind your own business, 
Reggie ? 

Reggie. I'm not blaming you. We're all in the 
same boat it seems. We've simply got to tell fibs to 
father, because he thinks that we're always trying to 
do something wrong. He's got it into his head that 
we want to bolt down the broad road that leads to 
destruction, and he spends his time dragging us back 
into the narrow path. As if a man can't have a little 
dinner with a pal without all this fuss. Strikes me 
the narrow path's for people with narrow minds. 

Grace. It really is simply awful now we've all 
grown up. At least, now Arthur and I are grown up. 

Reggie. Thank you, I'm nearly twenty myself. 
Wait till I'm twenty-one ; I'll show you how to 
manage father, then. In a way I rather admire 
Arthur for breaking out like this. Though of course 
he was a fool to come home while he was in that state. 
He ought to have gone for a long walk. I know I 
should. 

Grace. Father's terribly upset about it. There'll 
be an awful row. 

Reggie. He's not talked to Arthur yet ? 



the younger generation. 37 

Grace. No. 

Reggie. Saving it up, I suppose. He thinks it 
more Christian to be angry in cold blood. Person- 
ally I think it shows a nasty spirit. 

{The door opens slowly and Arthur comes in. He 
stops and looks round the room. He is subdued but 
not sheepish.) 

Reggie. It's all right. Father's not here. 

Arthur {casting a crushing look at Reggie). 
Breakfast ready, Grace ? 

Reggie. It was ready about two hours ago. 
{Imitating Mr. Kennion.) Late again, sir. I don't 
like it on a Sunday morning. 

Arthur {ignoring him). You might pour me some 
coffee, .Grace. 

Reggie. But I dare say you had a bad night. 

(Arthur sits at table with his back to the fire. Grace 
pours out coffee.) 

Reggie. How's your head this morning ? 
Arthur {dangerously). Shut up. 
Grace. What are you going to have ? 
Arthur. What is there ? 
Grace. Some tongue there. 

(Arthur draivs the tongue towards him and contem- 
plates it.) 

Or there's some bacon and eggs in the kitchen. 

Arthur {with a shudder). Bacon and eggs ! Ugh ! 
{He gets up.) I don't think I'll have anything. {He 
sits in the right-hand armchair.) 

Reggie {eyeing him sympathetically). What you 
want is a brandy and soda. 

Arthur. Isn't father up yet ? 

Grace. Yes ; long ago. And not in a very good 
temper. Maggie has just given him notice to leave. 



38 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

Artrvr {guiltily). Maggie? 

Reggie. Because of what took place between her 
and Arthur last night ? 

Grace. No ; I understand it's because of wh*at 
took place between her and father this morning. 

Arthur. Hello ? 

Reggie. I say, what's the dad been up to ? 

Grace. Don't be absurd. He says Arthur has 
got to apologize to her before every one, and she 
doesn't want him to. 

Arthur. I don't mind apologizing to Maggie if I 
behaved like a cad, but I'm not going to have it made 
into a public ceremony. 

Reggie. You shouldn't have made a public cere- 
mony of kissing her then. You might have waited 
until Uncle Tom had gone. 

Arthur. What ! Was Uncle Tom here ? 

Reggie. Didn't you notice a stranger ? 

Arthur. I thought I saw several. Was it only 
Uncle Tom ? 

Reggie. No, you were not deceived. There were 
others. You chose a night when there was quite a 
nice little reception on. 

Arthur. Who were they ? 

Grace. Mr. Leadbitter and Mr. Fowle, come to 
ask father to put up for the City Council. 

Arthur {groaning and sinking into his chair). Oh ! 
my goodness. 

Reggie {lighting a cigarette). Yes. There'll be a 
holy row. I wonder what father will say to you. 

Arthur. I'm thinking about what I shall say to 
father. 

Reggie. Shouldn't say anything. You'll only 
make things worse. 

Arthur. Never mind that. 

Reggie. Besides, he won't let you get a word in 
edgeways. He's too fond of talking. I expect he'll 
pray over you. 

Arthur. He'll have to listen to me. I'm going 



• THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 39 

to have some alterations in this house. That affair 
last night was only the beginning. 

Reggie. Do you mean you're going to get drunk 
every night ? 

Arthur. Don't talk rot. I mean that he's got to 
treat me differently. I'm going to have more freedom. 

Reggie. Oh ! While you're about it you might 
put in a word for us ; eh, Grace ? 

Grace. I quite agree with Arthur. We ought to 
have more freedom. 

Arthur. I'm going to tell him so. 

Reggie. Quite right. If things are to go on as 
they do at present, I shan't stand it. I shall go to 
Australia. 

Grace. I thought it was Canada. 

Reggie. No, on second thoughts, Australia. It's 
further away. 

(Tom Kennion comes in.) 

Tom. Sorry I'm so shockingly late. Good-morn- 
ing, Grace. Morning, Reggie. {He shakes hands imih 
them.) And this is Arthur, isn't it ? I've seen you, 
but you've not seen me. Good-morning, Arthur. 

{He shakes hands heartily ivith Arthur.) 

Arthur. Good-morning, Uncle Tom. 

Grace. Sit here, uncle. (Tom sits in the seat on 
the left of Reggie, facing the fire). Ring the bell, 
Arthur. (Arthur rings the bell.) Do you like tea or 
coffee ? 

Tom. Tea, if it's all the same to you. I can't get 
decent tea in Hamburg. 

Reggie. It's getting late. I must go and shave. 

Tom. Why, I thought you had shaved {looking at 
his chin). 

Reggie. No, I shave after breakfast on Sunday. 

(Reggie gets up and goes out. Maggie comes in with 
bacon and eggs and a small teapot.) 
Grace. Will you make some tea quickly, Maggie ? 



k 



40 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

Maggie. I've brought you some, miss. I thought 
the coffee would be cold. 

Grace. That's right. (Maggie goes out.) 

(Tom helps himself to bacon and Grace gives him tea.) 

Tom. I'll help myself. There's not much time 
to lose. I suppose you're all off to chapel ? 

Grace. Oh, yes. You'll come too ? 

Tom. I suppose so. 

Grace. I must go and get ready, if you'll excuse 
me. Grandmamma will be here soon. 

Tom. On her way to chapel ? 

Grace. Yes. She always goes with us. 

(Grace goes out.) 

Tom {after a pause). Feeling better this morning ? 

Arthur. Yes, thanks. 

Tom. You'd been having a lively time last night, 
young man. 

Arthur. I suppose you despise me for it ? 

Tom. Not in the least. 

Arthur. What would you say if I told you I'd 
never been drunk before ? 

Tom. I should be very much surprised. 

Arthur. It's the truth. Don't you believe me ? 

Tom. Of course I do, if you say so. 

Arthur. It's the first time in my life I've ever 
been drunk. 

Tom. Never mind ; it won't be the last. 

Arthur [thoughtfully). I don't suppose it will. 
There's a good deal to be said for getting drunk 
occasionally. 

Tom. I quite agree with you. 

Arthur. By Jove, you are different from father. 

Tom. You don't get on with your father ? 

Arthur. No. At least, not very well in some 
things. I should get on all right if he'd only let me 
alone a bit more. 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 41 

Tom. Do you expect him to have any greater con- 
fidence in you after last night ? 

Arthur. Good gracious ! father's never stopped 
me from doing anything I wanted to. A fellow can 
find ways to do things, however suspicious his father 
may be. Only, of course, I'm obliged to do them in 
an underhand, secret way, and that's what I object 
to. I don't want to tell lies and deceive father ; but 
when he thinks it's a deadly sin to drink a glass 
of beer or to go to a music hall, what else can I 
do? 

Tom. You can tell him straight out that you 
intend to have your glass of beer and your music hall. 

Arthur. I can now, but I couldn't before I was 
twenty-one. It means a row, you know. 

Tom. Never mind that. 

Arthur. Then of course I've always tried to spare 
his feelings and save him worrying himself. Where 
ignorance is bliss 'tis folly to be wise ; and if he'd 
known I went to music halls he'd have thought I was 
going straight to hell. 

Tom. Very considerate and thoughtful of you. 
All the same, have it out with him. It'll do you both 
good. 

Arthur. I'm going to. That affair of mine last 
night was a sort of symbol of revolt ; throwing down 
the glove, as it were. 

Tom. I see ; but was there any need to throw it 
down quite so violently ? (Tom rises, having finished 
breakfast.) 

Arthur. Perhaps not ; but I had my reasons for 
doing it that way. (Tom sits in the left-hand armchair 
and lights his pipe.) You know. Uncle Tom, I like 
you immensely. It's surprising how different your 
views are from father's. 

Tom. We've lived our lives in different places. 

Arthur. You were both brought up together. 

Tom. Yes, but I soon got away from Salchester 
and all its narrowness and bigotry, whilst your father 



I 



42 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

has lived here all the time. That's the difference 
between us. 

Arthur. Why did you leave home ? 

Tom. Couldn't stand it any longer. When I was 
a boy I was rather like you are now. 

Arthur {interested). Really? 

Tom. I felt just like you do, probably, only I was 
worse off. My parents were much stricter than yours 
are. 

Arthur. Impossible. 

Tom. Yes, they were. Just think of what my 
mother — your grandmother — is even now. 

Arthur. She's pretty awful, isn't she ? 

Tom. All of our set were like that in those days. 
It was understood that you were to have a good time 
in the next world provided you were miserable in this 
one. Well, as I say, I couldn't stand it. I quarrelled 
with your grandfather, and cleared out. First I got 
a place with a firm in London, and after that I went 
to Hamburg as their agent, and I've never regretted 
it. If I'd have stayed at home I daresay this place 
would have been too much forme, and I'd have given 
in to its influence like your father has done. 

Arthur. You think it's the place ? 

Tom. Certain of it. This Sunday morning brings 
it all back to me. Sunday school and chapel in the 
morning, and as likely as not the minister for dinner. 
And the roast beef and Yorkshire pudding completely 
spoiled for us boys because he persisted in examining 
us in points of theology during the meal. Sunday 
school again in the afternoon, chapel in the evening. 
We couldn't talk about things that interested us, we 
couldn't laugh, we couldn't run about, we couldn't 
read anything except the Bible. Gad, how well I 
remember it. [He shudders.) 

{The Church hells begin to ring in the distance.) 

Arthur. Thank goodness it isn't quite as bad as 
that now, 



THE YOUNGER GENERATIOK. 4^ 

Tom. No, even here the times have changed a Httle. 
Look here ; you and I won't go to chapel this morn- 
ing. V/e'll stay at home instead and have a long talk. 

Arthur. All right. {He laughs.) You evidently 
don't know what a big thing you're asking me to do. 

Tom. Why ? 

Arthur. I've never stayed at home from chapel 
before, except when I've been ill. 

Tom. Of course ; I was forgetting. Never mind, 
then. 

Arthur. No, I'll stay at home. 

Tom. Is that a bargain ? 

Arthur. Yes ; I'm in for a row already ; I may 
as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb. 

(Mr. Kennion comes in, having changed his house-coat 
for a frock-coat.) 

Mr. K. Good-morning, Tom ; had a good break- 
fast ? 

Tom. Splendid, thanks, Jim. 

(Mr. Kennion stands and looks severely at Arthur.) 

Mr. K. {severely). Arthur, I am not going to speak 
to you now, before chapel. There isn't time. I will 
see you after dinner. You are not to go out this after- 
noon. (Arthur rises.) Do you understand ? 

Arthur {sullenly). Yes, father. (Arthur goes 
out of the room.) 

Mr. K. {shaking his head). Tom, I'd give a hundred 
pounds if I hadn't to have this interview with Arthur. 
{He sits in the chair Arthur has left.) 

Tom. Can't you overlook it ? 

Mr. K. How can I ? 

Tom. Let him off lightly, then. 

Mr. K. You're a bachelor, you don't understand. 
You've got no children of your own. I have a duty 
to perform. 

Tom. Arthur's only very young. 



44 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

Mr. K. I know. That's why there's still a hope 
of reclaiming him. 

Tom. Reclaiming him ! Good Lord ! Jim, you 
were young yourself once. 

{They look gravely at each other for a space.) 

Do you remember that night you and I and Frank 
Hewett got drunk at the Royal George ? Do you 
remember us singing hymns outside Alderman Mac- 
dougall's shop in the High Street, until a policeman 
came up and tried to move us on ? Have you for- 
gotten that it was you who pushed the bobby through 
Alderman's plateglass window ? And surely you 
haven't forgotten how he chased us down High Street 
and along Kersley New Road, and how we climbed 
over Dr. Watson's wall and hid in the bushes until 
he'd gone by ? 

Mr. K. You may be sure I've never forgotten that 
night, Tom. It's one of the few things in my life I 
sincerely regret. It took place nearly thirty years 
ago, but I'm still ashamed of myself. 
Tom. Rubbish. 

Mr. K. I've often wanted to pay for that window, 
but I never knew how to without giving myself away. 
Tom {laughing). Ha, ha ! 

Mr. K. I always blame Frank Hewett for that 
night. He led us astray. And look what a mess he 
made of his life afterwards. 
Tom. Yes, poor chap. 

Mr. K. But that was the only time, Tom. It was 
a lesson to me. I've never tasted alcohol since that 
night. 

Tom. Perhaps this will be a lesson to Arthur too. 
Mr. K. I hope so. 

Tom. Well, it's a good thing he doesn't know 
about Alderman Macdougall's window, or it would 
rather spoil the effect of your sermon. 

Mr. K. No one knows about it except you. 
Tom. Mother never got to hear about it, did she ? 



\ 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 45 



Mr. K. Good gracious, no. I shouldn't like 
mother to hear about it even now. 

(Mrs. Kennion rustles in, attired in her Sunday best, 
all gloves, umbrella and hymn book.) 

Mrs. K. Good-morning, Tom. 

Tom. Good-morning. 

Mrs. K. Are you nearly ready, James ? The 
bells have started. 

Tom. What bells ? 

Mrs. K. The church bells. 

Tom. But you go to chapel, not to church. 

Mrs. K. There's no reason why we shouldn't use 
their bells, is there ? 

Mr. K. {who has been looking out of the window). 
Here's mother. 

Mrs. K. There's a collection to-da^^ James, 
isn't there ? 

Mr. K. Yes. 

Mrs. K. Have either of you got two threepenny 
bits for a sixpence ? 

Mr. K. No. 

Tom. No. 

Mrs. K. I shall have to give sixpence then. 

Tom. That won't break you, will it ? 

Mrs. K. No, but you see James collects, and so he 
always puts a five-shilling piece in the plate before he 
begins, and I think that's quite enough from one 
family. 

(Mrs. Hannah Kennion, an old, hard-featured but 
dignified woman of seventy-five, comes in slowly, 
dressed in widow's weeds. She carries a big hymn- 
book, a Bible, and an umbrella. Grace follows her 
in.) 

Mrs. K. {kissing the old lady). Well, mother ? 

(Mr. Kennion kisses her, and then Tom does.) 

Tom. Good-morning, mother. 



I 



46 THE YOTTNGER CxENERATION. 

Mrs. Hannah. It's a long time since I had both 
my boys here on a Sunday morning. 

{They aryange the left-hand armchair for her and she 
sits.) • 

Tom. Quite hke old times, mother. 

Mrs. Hannah. You are very fortunate, Thomas. I 
The Rev. Basil Macnamara is preaching this morning. ! 

Tom. Is he really ? 

Mrs. Hannah. A very powerful preacher. \ 

Tom. I hope he doesn't preach very long sermons. | 

Mrs. Hannah. No. Never more than thirty-five \ 
minutes. Sermons aren't what they used to be. 

Mr. K. Mother thinks we've changed for the 
worse, Tom. 

Mrs. Hannah. I do, indeed. By the way, James, 
I hear that man Roberts is to be made superintendent 
of the Sunday School. Is it true ? 

Mrs. K. Surely not. 

Mr. K. I believe so. 

Mrs. Hannah. I am very much surprised. 

Tom. Why, what's wrong with Mr. Roberts ? 

Mrs. Hannah. He is unfit for the position, I 
consider. He's not a gentleman. 

Tom. Oh ! 

Mrs. Hannah. He is only a working carpenter. 

[A pause.) 

Tom [quietly). It was a carpenter who was cruci- 
fied, mother. 

[A slight pause.) 

Mrs. Hannah (sJiocked). Please don't be irrever- 
ent, Thomas. 

Tom. I hadn't the least idea of being. 

Mrs. Hannah. I'm afraid it's done you no good 
being in Germany. A place where the theatres are 
open on Sunday. Little better than heathens. 
Reggie comes in ready for chapel.) 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 47 

Reggie. Morning, grandmamma. 

Mr. K. Where's Arthur ? 

Reggie. Upstairs, I think. {Calling through the 
door.) Arthur. 

Arthur {in the distance). Well ? 

Reggie. Father wants you. {Feeling his chin, he 
addresses the company generally.) I wish I could afford 
one of those safety razors. 

Mr. K. You'd soon be able to afford one if you'd 
save your money instead of spending it foolishly. 

(Arthur comes in, ivithout his hat.) 

Mr. K. Come, Arthur, aren't you ready ? 
Arthur. I don't think I'll go to chapel this morn- 
ing, father. I'll stay at home with Uncle Tom. 

{General astonishment.) 

Mrs. Hannah {looking at him). Thomas ! 

Tom {shamefacedly). I- — er — thought of staying at 
home. 

Mrs. Hannah. I hope you'll do no such thing, 
Thomas. Now you have come back, after all these 
years, I expect you to take me to chapel. 

Tom {penitently). Very well, mother, of course I 
will. 

Mrs. Hannah. I should think so. ^ 

{She rises. Tom gives her his arm.) 

Mrs. Hannah {handing him her Bible and hymn- 
hook). Carry these. 

(Mrs. Hannah and Tom go to the door.) 

Arthur {to Tom as he passes). Coward ! (Tom 
smiles.) 

(Mrs. Hannah and Tom go out.) 

Mrs. K. Aren't you well, Arthur ? 

Arthur. Quite weh, thank you, mother. 

Mr. K. Thf^n what's all this about not going to 
chapel ? 



48 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

Arthur. I don't feel inclined to go. 

Mr. K. Don't feel inclined ! What has that to do 
with it ? I don't go to chapel because I feel inclined 
to go. 

Arthur. Don't you ? I always thought you did. 

(Arthur takes a novel from a table, sits in the right 
hand armchair and takes out a cigarette.) 

Mr. K. Do I understand that you refuse to go ? 
Arthur. If you like to put it that way, yes. 

(Mr. Kennion stands nonplussed. Then he turns to 
the others, who are dumb with astonishment.) 

Mr. K. Come, Alice, you'll be late. Reggie ! 
Grace ! 

[He waves them out. They go tmwillingly. After a 
moment's hesitation he approaches Arthur.) 

Mr. K. Arthur, for the last time are you coming ? 
Arthur {reading the book). No, father. 
Mr. K. {suppressing his righteous anger). I'll talk 
to you this afternoon, sir. 

(Mr. Kennion stalks angrily from the room. Arthur 
lights his cigarette as the curtain falls. The church 
bells are still ringing in the distance.) 



ACT III. 

The same room. The time is about half-past two in 
the afternoon of the same day as Act II. Dinner is 
cleared away. There is a dish of fruit on the side- 
hoard, and a dish of nuts with a pair of crackers. 

Grace is sitting in the right-hand armchair, and 
Arthur in the left-hand one. Both are reading 
novels. 

Arthur {looking at his watcli). I wonder how long 
father will be. 

Grace. I expect he doesn't want to talk to you so 
soon after dinner. 

Arthur. Why ? I want to go out. 

Grace. It must be bad for any one who suffers 
from indigestion to be angry immediately after a 
heavy meal. 

Arthur. There's no need for him to be angry. 

Grace. I think he'd have got over it by this time 
if he'd been left to himself ; but I expect grandmamma 
has been rubbing in the moral. 

Arthur. Grandmamma ! Does she know ? 

Grace. I think so. 

Arthur. About — last night ? 

Grace. Father and mother were talking to her 
very earnestly after chapel. I couldn't manage to 
hear what they were saying, but I expect it was about 
that. 

Arthur. What on earth's he told her for ? 

Grace. Goodness knows ! 



50 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

(Reggie comes in.) 

Reggie. Hello ! Any fruit knocking about ? 
{Seeing the fruit.) Here we are. 

(Reggie takes the fruit and the nuts and places them 
on the dining table. Then he sits on the corner of 
the table and devours grapes while he is talking.) 

Grace. Aren't you going to Sunday school to-day? 

Reggie. No. I sent word I couldn't go because 
we'd got an uncle from abroad staying with us. 

Grace. What an excuse ! 

Reggie. Well, why aren't you at Sunday school ? 

Grace. Never mind. I've a much better reason 
than you. 

Reggie. Not got it over yet, Arthur ? 

Arthur {shortly). No. 

(Arthur and Grace read their books.) 

Reggie. Well, here's luck ! {He eats a grape.) 
My advice to you is stick up to the old man. Don't 
let him do all the talking. After all, what is a bit 
of a blind occasionally ? It does you good. {He is 
eating grapes between the sentences.) Getting drunk 
takes you away from the sordid realities of every-day 
life, as Shakespeare says. It's a sort of romance. 
And goodness knows there's not too much romance in 
this blooming hole. I don't know how people stick 
it. Uncle Tom couldn't, you see. He went abroad, 
and so shall I. I've finally decided ; I shall go to 
Canada. What I want is " a man's life." 

Grace. I wish you wouldn't talk such rot, Reggie. 
{She resumes her novel.) 

Reggie. No, I mean it. Arthur feels just the 
same as I do ; only I'm going to Canada and he went on 
the razzle. It's quite natural. You tell father that ; 
say I said so. 

Arthur. Shut up. 

Reggie {aggrieved). All right, I'm only trying to 
help you. We ought to all stick together now. 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 51 

Grace. I quite agree with Reggie there, Arthur. 

Arthur. What about ? 

Grace. We ought to make a stand as well as you. 

Arthur. I can manage all right alone, thanks. 

Grace. I don't mean for your sake, I mean for 
ours. We're all in the same boat just now. 

Reggie. That's what I say. Of course, I'm not 
as bad as you two ; what have I done ? Nothing ! 
A little dinner with a friend, that's all. But I'll 
stand by you all the same. 

Grace. It's a good opportunity to make father 
understand that we're not children any longer. 

Arthur. Mother and father. She's as bad as he is. 

Grace. Oh, mother will do anything father does. 

Reggie. Yes, she's one of the old school of females. 

Grace. They are so unreasonable about little 
things. 

Reggie. They're out of date, that's what's the 
matter. And as for grandmamma, she's worse than 
out of date. She's what I call early Victorian. 

Grace. I shall be twenty-three next month ; and 
just think what girls of twenty-three do nowadays. 

Reggie. Yes. Lots of them have been in gaol. 

Grace. I shall tell father that he's got to treat me 
differently. 

Reggie. So shall I. Bravo ! Arthur, this, is all 
owing to you. You raised the signal of revolt, and I 
honour you for it. {He puts an apple in one pocket 
and some nuts in the other.) If I'd thought about it 
I'd have done it myself. 

(Reggie goes out.) 

Arthur. Silly young ass 1 {To Grace.) You're 
serious about this ? 

Grace. Absolutely. 

Arthur. I think you're quite right. 

Grace. By the way, was Clifford Rawson with 
you last night ? 

Arthur {guiltily). Er 



I 



52 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

Grace. Oh, it's all right. Don't be afraid to tell 
me. I don't mind if he was. 

Arthur. Well then, he was. 

Grace. I thought so. Was he^ — er ? 

Arthur. I don't know. 

Grace. Don't know ? 

Arthur. I mean, I don't remember. But I don't 
think so. I had a particular reason for getting — er — 
like I was, and he hadn't. 

Grace. Never mind. I shall lecture him. 

Arthur. Don't say I gave him away. 

Grace. It doesn't matter. I'm not angry, 
although I don't approve of that sort of thing very 
much. But I don't altogether object to a boy get- 
ting drunk now and then before he's married ; it 
acts as a sort of safety valve. The people I do object 
to are the people who never touch alcohol under any 
circumstances. They nearly always turn out con- 
firmed drunkards. 

(Mr. Kennion comes in. He looks at Grace.) 

Mr. K. I want to speak to Arthur alone, Grace. 
Grace. Very well, father. 

(Grace gets up, and with a parting smile at Arthur, 
goes out. Mr. Kennion uneasily strolls across the 
room, tip to the bow window ; fidgets about, and then 
returns to the hearthrug, where he stands and looks 
at Arthur, who has remained in the armchair all 
the time.) 

Mr. K. Maggie has been to me to withdraw the 
notice she gave this morning. It appears you have 
already apologized to her. 

Arthur. Yes, I apologized to her in the kitchen 
when you were at chapel, ' 

Mr. K. In the kitchen ! Well, I must be content 
with that, as Maggie objects so strongly to a more 
pubUc apology. 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 53 

(Arthur does not reply, and Mr. Kennion sits in the 
left armchair.) 

{Quietly.) Well, Arthur, I have been thinking all this 
over. I'm not going to get into a rage and play the 
angry father ; although, Heaven knows, I might well 
be pardoned for doing so. But I try never to speak 
in anger ; and I cannot forget that you are a man 
now ; you are twenty-one. But, Arthur, if I am to 
treat you as a man I expect you to behave like one. 
I don't need to tell you that I was terribly shocked by 
that awful scene last night ; nor what is worse, that 
you have thoroughly upset your mother and your 
grandmother. 

Arthur. Why did you tell grandmamma ? 

Mr. K. I didn't. It was your mother. I should 
have kept it from grandmamma, but she saw that 
something was wrong by your refusing to go to 
chapel, and she tackled your mother and got it out of 
her. . . . Very well, that is the most painful result 
of your behaviour. Then there is the effect upon 
Reggie. Reggie's character is not very strong, I am 
afraid, and I'm deeply grieved that he should have 
seen you in that condition. I tremble to think what 
may be the consequence of such an example to a 
young and innocent boy. . . Then again there is 
Mr. Leadbitter and Mr. Fowle. Think of it ! You 
disgraced yourself and me before two gentlemen who 
have just honoured me by showing their confidence 
in my principles and my good influence ! It is quite 
possible that they will not care to ask me to represent 
them now. 

Arthur. They are men of the world, ""ather. 

Mr. K. Men of the world ! I hate that term. It 
is our duty to keep ourselves unspotted by the world. 
At any rate, I am not going to hold them to their 
invitation if they already regret it. I met Mr. Lead- 
bitter this morning and told him so. 

Arthur. What did he say ? 

Mr. K. He told me not to worry my head about 



54 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

it. He told me that he would say nothing about the 
matter and that he was sure Mr. Fowle wouldn't. 
Arthur. Then that will be all right, father. 
Mr. K. No thanks to you, sir, if it is. Think how 
this undermines my self-respect. How am I to help 
to manage the affairs of a city, when I can't keep my 
own son in order. And think how awkward it will 
be during the election if this gets about. 

Arthur. I'm very sorry, father ; but I don't 
think it will spoil your chances. 

Mr. K. Sorry, sir ; sorry ! Are you nothing 
more than sorry ? But I've only mentioned the 
results of your behaviour ; how it affects other 
people. I want to talk about how it affects yourself. 
I want to point out to you the immorality, the 
h'centiousness of your conduct. 
Arthur. There's no need to. 
Mr. K. {slightly raising his tone). There is need to. 
All the more because I'm afraid you don't realize the 
seriousness of your offence. You're behaving too 
callously What did you mean by refusing to go to 
chapel ? 
Arthur. I didn't want to go. 
Mr. K. People don't go because they want to ; 
they go because it's their duty. 

Arthur. I can't see any use in going to a religious 
service unless you go willingly. 

Mr. K. What do you know about it ? 
Arthur. I'm quite old enough to decide for myself. 
Mr. K. What do you think would be the result if 
every one followed his personal inclinations without 
restraint ? 

Arthur. Liberty. 

Mr. K. Rubbish. Anarchy ! You can't do ex- 
actly what you like in this world. You have to be 
bounded by certain conventions. 

Arthur. Yes ; only people have never been able 
to agree about those conventions. And they never 
will. 



I 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 55 

Mr. K. You're talking nonsense. You say you 
stayed at home this morning because you wanted to. 
Did you get drunk last night because you wanied to ? 

Arthur. Yes, certainly. 

Mr. K. What ! You icanted to get drunk ! 

Arthur. I did it deliberately. 

Mr. K. Good heavens ! 

Arthur. I got drunk as a symbol of revolt. I 
wanted to show you that I'm going my own way in 
future. 

Mr. K. Do you mean to say that you're not in 
the least ashamed of yourself ? 

Arthur. Not at all. I'm proud of it. 

Mr. K. That you are actually proposing to get 
drunk again ? 

Arthur. Not very often, because you don't feel 
well after it. But I shall if I want to. 

Mr. K. Then you'll do it in somebody else's house, 
not in mine. 

Arthur. I should like to point out that you take 
a much too serious view of getting drunk. 

Mr. K. It's a degrading, beastly habit. 

Arthur. Yes, when you make a habit of it. 
Done occasionally it has it's advantages, 

Mr. K. {grimly). Perhaps you will be good enough 
to mention them. 

Arthur. To begin with it does awaj^ with Puri- 
tan ideas. A Puritan is a person who gets on a 
pedestal to look at the rest of the world. Getting 
drunk knocks him off the pedestal. 

Mr. K. But why should he be knocked off. 

Arthur. Because he's a human being like the 
people he's looking down on. Only gods should 
stand on pedestals. 

Mr. K. Arthur, I believe you're going mad, 

Arthur. Now you're a Puritan, father. 

Mr. K. I am very proud to be called a Puritan. 

Arthur. It's a mistake. It would do you a world 
of good to get drunk. 



56 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

Mr. K. How dare you ? 

Arthur. It would, really. At present you think 
you're perfect. 

Mr. K. I know I'm very far from perfect, but I 
do what I can to show people the right way. 

Arthur. But how do you know that you know 
the right way ? Then again, getting drunk is only 
one way of letting off surplus steam. Every one has 
to let off his surplus steam. 

Mr. K. Every one doesn't get drunk. 

Arthur. Not with beer or whisky perhaps, but 
there are other ways. A revival meeting is a form of 
drunkenness ; it is a religious debauch. 

Mr. K. Upon my word, Arthur, you are perfectly 
scandalous. 

Arthur. No, I'm perfectly serious. The Salva- 
tion Army is only a substitute for the public house. 

Mr. K. And a very good substitute too. I sup- 
pose that in your enthusiasm for drunkenness you are 
prepared to defend the drinking habits of the work- 
ing classes. 

Arthur. Certainly. The working man isn't poor 
because he gets drunk. He gets drunk because he is 
poor. He is too poor to afford anj^ other form of 
pleasure. 

Mr. K. Pleasure ! 

Arthur. Of course ; it is pleasant to get drunk, 
though it's beastly unpleasant afterwards. It takes 
those poor beggars away from their awful surround- 
ings for a few hours. It makes them forget that next 
week they may not have enough to feed their wives 
and children. 

Mr. K. No wonder, if they spend their money in 
drink. But you, you and your friends, haven't that 
excuse. You don't need to drug yourselves in order 
to forget your surroundings. 

Arthur. Yes we do. We get fearfully depressed 
at times. Do you suppose that a young fellow with 
hot blood likes stuffing in a dreary office or warehouse 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 57 

six days a week. He wants to be doing something, 
not writing in ledgers and answering the telephone. 
I don't blame him for breaking out sometimes. Of 
course, he breaks out in different ways. There's 
Reggie, for instance, always wanting " a man's life " 
in Canada. That's one form of it ; getting drunk is 
another. 

Mr. K. I shall decline to listen to you any more. 
I don't know where you've got these ideas from. 

Arthur. They are in the air, nowadays. 

Mr. K. I won't have them in my house. {He 
rises.) Now, Arthur, understand me — if you are to 
remain at home you'll have to behave yourself. 

Arthur. I'll promise to behave myself — that is, 
not to come home drunk or do anything outrageous — 
if you will promise not to be always asking me where 
I've been or where I'm going. 

Mr. K. {pathetically). But I must keep an eye on 
3'ou, my boy. 

Arthur. No, you've got to trust me ; you must 
give me a latch-key. 

Mr. K. I don't know whether you're old enough 
for a latch-key. 

Arthur. You are anxious enough to get me on the 
register with a lodger's vote ; if I'm old enough to 
settle the affairs of the nation, surely I'm old enough 
to have a latch-key. 

Mr. K. I shall have to think it over. I don't 
quite know where I am to-day. {He passes up and 
down, perplexed.) 

Arthur. Thank you, father. 

Mr. K. {quickly). Mind, I don't promise. I must 
think about it. 

(Reggie comes in quickly.) 

Mr. K. What do you want ? 
Reggie. Clifford Rawson's come ! 
Mr. K. Chfford Rawson ! I'd forgotten all about 
him. Where is he ? 



58 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

Reggie. In the drawing-room with Grace. 

Mr. K. With Grace ! {Sharply.) How long has 
he been here ? 

Reggie. I don't know. 

Mr. K. Where's your mother ? Go and find her ; 
tell her I want her. 

(Reggie goes out.) 

Mr. K. Grace had no right to see Clifford alone. 
Too bad of her. 

(Reggie opens the door again.) 

Reggie. Here's grandmamma. 

(Reggie disappears as Mrs. Hannah enters.) 

Mrs. Hannah. Good-afternoon, James. {Look- 
ing at Arthur disapprovingly.) Well, sir ? 

Arthur {rising). Good-afternoon, grandmamma. 

Mrs. Hannah {sitting in the left armchair). Aren't 
you ashamed of yourself ? 

Mr. K. I have already spoken to Arthur, mother. 

Mrs. Hannah {contemptuously). All this is owing 
to your mistaken leniency. You don't know how to 
manage a son. 

Mr. K. {nettled). I ought to know. I had the 
advantage of your training. 

Mrs. Hannah. Yes. You were more fortunate in 
your parents than Arthur is. 

(Mrs. Kennion, folloived by Tom and Reggie, comes 
in.) 

Mr. K. {to Mrs. Kennion). Clifford Rawson is in 
the drawing-room with Grace. I shall have to go and 
see him. Will you come with me or not ? 

Mrs. K. What do you think ? 

Mr. K. I think you'd better. 

Mrs. K. What are you going to say to him ? 

Mr. K. I'm not quite certain. 

Mrs. Hannah. That was always your great fault, 
James ; you never could make up your mind. 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 59 

Mr. K. I like to try and be fair, mother ; and see 
both sides of a question. 

Mrs. Hannah. It's best to see only one side, if you 
wish to get your own way. 

(Tom has seated himself by the desk on the left, where he 
smokes and watches the others. Arthur, after rising, 
has pushed the right armchair further to the right, 
away from the hearth. Mrs. Kennion is standing by 
the right armchair, Mrs. Hannah sitting in the left 
one. Arthur beside Mrs. Kennion, and Mr. 
Kennion in the middle of the group, near the table. 
Reggie is behind the table, helping himself to fruit.) 

{The door bursts open and Grace enters dragging in 
Clifford Rawson, an ordinary, good-natured, 
pleasant young felloiv of twenty-four .) 

Grace. Clifford and I want your consent to our 
engagement, father. 

Mr. K. Grace ! This is too bad of you, really. 

Grace. What is ? 

Mr. K. Taking us by surprise like this. {To 
Clifford.) Good-afternoon. 

Clifford. Good-afternoon, sir. {To Mrs. Ken- 
nion.) Good-afternoon. {He boivs to Mrs. Hannah 
and Tom.) 

Grace. That is our Uncle Tom. 

Tom. How do you do. 

Clifford. Pleased to meet you. 

Mr. K. Was there any need for this hurry, Clif- 
ford ? 

Clifford. It's not my fault, Mr. Kennion, Grace 
insisted on coming in and asking you at once. 

Mrs. Hannah {snorting). Upon my word ! I 
don't know what girls are coming to. 

Mrs. K. It really is most embarrassing, Grace. 

Tom. Perhaps I'd better withdraw. 

Grace. Certainly not. Uncle Tom ; Clifford 
doesn't mind. Do you, Clifford ? 



1 



60 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

Clifford {looking round). Er, no. I suppose 
not. I want Mr. Kennion to say yes, that's all. 

Mr. K. Before I can say " yes " there are certain 
questions that I should like you to answer. 

Tom. I'm sure I'd better clear out. Come along, 
mother. 

{He offers his arm to Mrs. Hannah.) 

Mrs. Hannah. Certainly not. I shall stop here. 

Mr. K. Where were you last night, Chfford ? 

Clifford {startled). Last night ? 

Mr. K. Yes, Were you with Arthur ? 

{A pause. Clifford looks at Arthur and raises his 
eyes inquiringly.) 

Mr. K. Come. 

Clifford {taking the plunge). Yes ; I was with 
Arthur. 

Mr. K. Ah. I'm glad you haven't told me a lie, 
at any rate. 

Clifford. You see, I wasn't certain whether you 
knew or not. 

Mr. K. You admit you were with Arthur last 
night. That admission makes it easier for me to give 
you an answer at once. I haven't sufficient confi- 
dence in you to allow Grace to become engaged to you. 

Clifford. But why ? 

Mr. K. I'm sorry — I don't think you are steady. 

Clifford. What reason have you for thinking 
that ? 

Mr. K. You are a friend of Arthur's, for one thing. 

Clifford. What ! I'm not fit to marry your 
daughter because I'm a friend of your son ! 

Mr. K. Arthur came home disgracefully drunk 
last night. 

Clifford. He's never done such a thing before. 

Mr. K. How do I know that is true ? 

Clifford. Ask any of the fellows. Why he 
doesn't care for beer, and he positively hates whisky. 
He got drunk last night quite by accident. 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 61 

Mr. K. He told me he did it on purpose, as a 
symbol of revolt. 

Clifford. No, it was an accident. 

Arthur. I don't see what all this has to do with 
Grace's engagement. 

Clifford [hotly). Here's Mr. Kennion objecting 
to me because of your disgraceful behaviour. I'm 
only telling him that j^ou're not so bad as he thinks 
you are. 

Arthur. Just mind your own business, please, 
Clifford. 

Clifford. It is my business. [To Mr. Kennion.) 
Look here, sir, Arthur and I and some of the fellows 
went into the Royal George smoke-room last night for 
a drink. Arthur was talking about the way you are 
always nagging at him and asking him where he's 
been ; and he said he wasn't going to stand it any 
longer. We sympathized with him, of course, and 
advised him to have it out with you. Well, he said he 
would if he could only make up his mind, only he was 
a bit afraid of tackling you. We advised him to have 
a whisky and soda to buck him up. He had a couple, 
but still he funked it. You see, the idea was to screw 
his courage up to sticking point, so we persuaded 
him to go on with the whisky and soda. Unfortun- 
ately, he isn't accustomed to drinking spirits, and we 
made a mistake and screwed him up too far. In fact 
he got completely screwed. 

Arthur [indignantly). You're a low cad to give 
a fellow away like this, Clifford. 

Mr. K. [to Arthur). I thought you got drunk as 
a protest, a symbol of revolt. 

Krtu.\]'R [annoyed). I know I said I did. I thought 
I might as well make the best of it after it had 
happened. 

Mr. K. I am very glad to find that you've not been 
as bad as I feared. [To Clifford.) However, this 
explanation doesn't make any difference to my opinion 
of you. I like you, Clifford, I always have liked you ; 



I 



62 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

but you haven't the strength of character that I 
should wish to see in the man who is to marry Grace. 

Grace. Father, I don't at all insist on strength of 
character in my husband. 

Mr. K. {grimly). I do, my dear. 

Grace. But you won't have to live with him. If 
I've got to live with a man all my life he ought to be 
some one / like, not some one you like. 

Mrs. K. I wish you wouldn't put it like that, Grace. 
' ' Live with a man ! " It doesn't sound proper. 

Mr. K. Let me try and make you see this in a 
reasonable light. 

Mrs. Hannah. Now you're going to give in to 
them, James. 
; Mr. K. I am not going to give in to them, Mother. 

Grace. Then it's really no use continuing the 
conversation. 

Mrs. K. {pathetically). Oh, Grace, do listen to your 
father ; he means well. 

Mrs. Hannah. Girls didn't behave like this when 
I was young. 

Mr. K. I hope "you are not going to be stubborn, 
Grace, and upset your mother. We have had enough 
worry with the three of you ; you and Arthur and 
Reggie. 

Reggie. There ! Now I'm to be dragged into 
this, I suppose. I'm sure I've not done anything very 
serious. 

Mr. K. You've told me a lie. 

Reggie. Oh, you've got to tell a good many fibs 
before you die. 

Mr. K. It is not a matter of telling fibs. You 
have all three told me downright elaborate, calculated 
lies. If there is one thing I object to it is a lie. 

Arthur. I don't know how you get on in business 
if you never tell one. 

Mr. K. I prefer to tell the truth even if I lose 
money by it. {To Grace.) Now, Grace, are you 
going to be reasonable ? 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 63 

Grace. I want to many Clifford. 

Mr. K. No. 

Clifford. But give me your reasons. 

Mr. K. I have given them. 

Clifford. You've said something about strength 
of character- 

Mr. K. If you wish me to put it plainly I'm 
afraid you drink. 

Clifford. I don't. 

Mr. K. Have you ever been drunk ? 

Clifford. Once or twice. 

Mr. K. {with a gesture). Very well ! What did I 
say? 

Clifford. Getting tight once or twice isn't the 
same as drinking. 

Mr. K. If there is a difference it is not worth 
discussing. 

Clifford. But you must know that every fellow 
gets drunk some time or other. 

Mr. K. I hope not, for the sake of this country. 
The man who has once been drunk is never to be 
relied on. He may break out at any time. 

Arthur. Father, you're so unreasonable ! You 
must have been young once. (^4 sligJit pause.) Have 
you never been drunk yourself ? 

Mrs. K. {reproachfully). Oh, Arthur ! 

Mr. K {staggered). What do you say ? 

Arthur. Have you never been drunk yourself ? 

(.4 pause. Mr. Kennion sloidy turns his head and 
looks at Tom ; icho ivith a stippresscd giggle, le'hich he 
turns into a laugh, rises quickly and ivalks to the 
bow window where he stands with his back to them 
all, looking out of the windoiv.) 

Mrs. Hannah. This is the new fashioned way of 
bringing up your children, James. My children 
never put such a question to me. 

Mrs. K. Arthur, how can you ask your father 
such a thing ? 



64 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

Arthur. I notice he hasn't answered me. 

Mr. K. {collecting himself). Eh ? What's that ? 

Arthur. I say you haven't answered me. 

Mrs. K. It isn't necessary for your father to 
answer such a question. 

Tom {coming doimi). Why not ? 

Mr. K. Do you think it is ? 

Tom. Certainly. It is very necessary. If you 
refuse to answer, Arthur and the others would be 
justified in putting the worst construction on your 
refusal. 

Mr. K. Very well {ivith an effort). I have never 
been drunk in my life. 

{A pause.) 

Mrs. Hannah. I brought up my boys strict 
teetotalers. I don't know what habits you have 
contracted in that dissolute Germany, Thomas ; but 
I feel sure James, at least, has never touched a drop 
of intoxicating liquor. Have you, James ? 

Mr. K. {dully). No, Mother. 

Arthur. What ! Never ? 

Tom {quietly). You don't suppose that your father 
would tell you a lie, do you, Arthur ? 

(Mr. Kennion casts an agonized glance at Tom, and 
goes to the table where he sits with his back half turned 
to them all, resting his head on his hands.) 

Mrs. K. There, now, you've upset your father. 

Clifford. Tm sorry to interrupt this discussion, 
but it really doesn't interest me. I want to be en- 
gaged to Grace ; and I don't mind at all whether Mr. 
Kennion was ever drunk or not. I shouldn't let 
that affect our engagement in the least. 

Mrs. Hannah. Young man, since my son doesn't 
seem disposed to answer you, I'll answer you myself. 
Our family has always been a strict, upright. God- 
fearing family. My grandfather was a disciple and a 
friend of John Wesley himself. We've always tried 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 65 

to keep up the tradition in the family. Some of the 
younger members have fallen away sadly, of late ; 
but I blame their father, my son James, for that. 
They say he's been too harsh with them ; I say [with 
great force) that he's not been harsh enough. There's 
original sin in every young man and young woman, 
and it's got to be stamped out of them. Yes, scourged 
out of them with whips, and burnt out of them with 
fire if need be. James has been to blame in that 
respect ; but it can't be helped now, it's too late. 
But it's not too late to refuse to admit you into the 
family. There's no need to let Grace marry a light- 
minded and vicious man, when she might marry a 
God-fearing man who goes to the chapel. 

Grace {protesting). Grandmamma. 

Mrs. Hannah. If I'd my way I'd put her under 
lock and key if she refused to obey her parents, just 
as I'd turn my son out of doors if he came home 
drunk. [She looks at Arthur.) 

Arthur [quietly). We are in the twentieth century 
now. 

Mrs. Hannah. Thank God I shall not live to see 
the twenty-first. 

Mrs. K. {moved). Mother, I can't bear to hear you 
say such things. I know my children have been very 
wrong and sinful, but I can't forget that they are 
very young. They'll be less hasty when they grow 
older, and they'll think more about what they are 
doing. James couldn't dream of doing what you 
suggest, Mother ; and if he did I wouldn't let him. 

Mrs. Hannah. You're not of my generation, Alice. 
You're of a younger and softer generation. 

Mrs. K. [her eyes full of tears). I'm thankful I am. 
Your generation is too hard for me. 

(Maggie comes in with a letter.) 

Grace. What is it, Maggie ? 

Maggie. Mr. Fowle has sent tliis note across, 



60 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

miss, for the master. There's no answer. (Maggie 
goes out.) 

Mrs. K. [taking the note from Grace.) Father, 
here's a letter from Mr. Fowle. 

Mr. K. [rousing himself). Eh ? Thank you. [He 
takes it, opens it, and reads it.) 

Tom. This is no business of mine, I know ; but 
perhaps you won't think it impertinent if I say a few 
words. 

Mrs. K. Of course not, Tom, 

Tom. To begin with, I'm afraid we can't adopt 
your suggestions, mother. 

Mrs. Hannah. You never would take my advice, 
Thomas. 

Tom. No. I was too young to take your advice 
once, and now I'm too old. This is my proposal. 

(Mr. Kennion listens.) 

Consent to an engagement between Grace and Clifford. 
Let them see each other freely, for a year, at least. 
Only let Clifford understand that he is on probation ; 
that he's got to behave himself. 

Clifford. I'll promise that. 

Tom. I think you may. It makes a wonderful 
difference to a fellow when he has an object in life. 
As for Arthur. If you'll allow me, Jim, I'll take him 
back with me to Hamburg, and find him plenty of 
work to do. [To Arthur.) Will you come ? 

Arthur [jumping at it). Rather ! 

Mrs. Hannah [to Arthur). Yes. That's what you 
want. To get away from the restraint of home. 

Tom. Why not ? It'll do him good. Home life 
is not an unmixed blessing. Now, Jim, what do you 
say? 

Mr. K (rising). I've been thinking it all over, Tom, 
while I've been sitting here. I will admit that I've 
changed my mind to some extent. 

Tom. Ah, something has made you change your 
mind, 



THE YOUNGER GENERATiOK. 67 

Mr. K. Yes ; something. Clifford, Grace, I think 
we had better do what Uncle Tom suggests. 

Grace {throwing her arms round him). Dear father ! 

Clifford {grasping his hand). Thank you, sir. 

Mr. K. But mind, Clifford — Grace, you're stifling 
me- — you must deal honourably with me. 

Clifford. I will. 

Mr. K. And if you like to take Arthur for a year 
or so, Tom, I think it would be a good idea. 

Arthur. Thank you, father. 

Tom. Then that's all right. 

Mrs. K. I'm so glad we're not going to have any 
difficulty. I'm sure it's all for the best. 

(Mrs. Hannah snorts.) 

Tom. What does Fowle say, Jim ? 
Mr. K. Fowle ? Oh, yes. {Referring to the 
letter.) He says : — 

" Don't be a fool. You've got to stand for the 
Council. You are an honourable man with a 
clean record, and they're not so easy to find 
nowadays. Leadbitter and I won't breathe a 
word about high old times on Saturday night, if 
that's wha? you are afraid of. 

Grace. That's not all, father. {She has been look- 
ing over his shoulder.) 

Mr. K. That is all that matters. 
Grace. Oh, listen to this. {She takes the letter.) 
" I rather admire Arthur. He is a young 
sport. I didn't think he had it in him." 
Mr. K. There was no need to read that, Grace. 
However, I shall stand for the Council, after all. 

Grace. I hope you'll get in, father. You deserve 
to. {She kisses him.) Clifford, there's a fire in the 
drawing-room. Come along. 

Mrs. K. You'll stay to tea, Clifford ? 
Clifford. Thanks very much. 

(Clifford and Grace go out. ) 



68 THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 

Tom. I'm off early to-morrow morning, Arthur 
If you're coming with me you'll have to pack up 
to-night. 

Arthur. I'll begin now. Wih you come and 
help me, mother ? 

Mrs. K. Yes, dear, in a httle while. 

(Arthur runs out.) 

Reggie {coming forward). Look here, what about 
me ? 

Mr. K. Well, what about you ? 

Reggie. You've fixed up Arthur arid Grace all 
right ; it's my turn now. I'm going out to Canada. 

Mrs. K. Don't be silly, dear. 

Reggie. I've made up my mind. I shall go out 
to join Tommy Leshe. All I want is £ioo for my out- 
fit, and to give me a start over there. 

Mr. K. And where are you going to get your £ioo ? 

Reggie. I want you to lend it me. 

Mr. K. Do you ? You will have to want a long 
time. 

Reggie. It's jolly mean of you. Uncle Tom, will 
you lend me £ioo ? 

Tom. I'm afraid I haven't got it about me just at 
present. {He feels in his pockets.) 

Reggie. You've no need to make fun of me, any 
way. You don't sympathize with me, that's what it 
is. You don't know what it is to want to live " a 
man's life." Wait until I'm twenty-one. You'll see. 

(Reggie goes out sulkily.) 

(Mrs. Hannah rises slowly.) 

Mrs. K. Are you going, mother ? 

Mrs. Hannah. Yes. 

Mrs. K. Won't you stay to tea ? 

Mrs. Hannah. No, I wih not stay to tea. 

(Mrs. Kennion goes to the door to see Mrs. Hannah 
out.) 



THE YOUNGER GENERATION. 69 

Mrs. Hannah. You've given in to them, James. 
/ wouldn't have given in to them. 

(Mrs. Hannah goes out, proud, stern and erect. Mrs. 
Kennion follows.) 

Mr. K. {as soon as they are gone). Tom ! I told 
a lie. 

Tom. Yes. A pretty big one, too. 

Mr. K. Good God ! After what I had just been 
saying about telling the truth ! But what could I 
do ? Could I have told them about getting drunk and 
breaking Alderman MacDougall's window and being 
chased by a policeman ? 

Tom. You could have told them, of course. 

Mr. K. Reggie, and Arthur and Grace ! And 
mother too ; what would she have thought about me ? 

Tom. It would have done mother good to know 
that her system didn't work as well as she thinks it did. 

Mr. K, But do you blame me ? 'Where would my 
authority have been if Fd told them ? 

Tom. I think you did quite right, old fellow. And 
it will do you good too. You won't be so inclined to 
get on a pedestal and look down on the rest of the 
world, in future. 

Mr. K. Get on a pedestal ! That's what Arthur 
said to me this afternoon. 

Tom. Ah ! That lad has some good ideas in his 
head. He only needs letting alone. 

(Mrs. Kennion returns.) 

Tom. Mother gone ? 

Mrs. K. Yes. 

Tom. I'll just run after her and walk home with 
her. She's a little put out, I'm afraid. I'll see 
whether I can talk her round. 

(Tom goes out.) 

(Mrs, Kennion sits in the left armchair. Mr. Ken- 



70 THE YOUNGER GENERATION 

NiON draws the right armchair up to the hearth. Mrs. 
Kennion has her handkerchief out.) 

Mrs. K. I hope it's all for the best. We seem to 
be out of sympathy with mother, and with the 
children too. 

Mr. K. Mother is very old, and the children are 
very young. We must make allowances for them. 

(Mr. Kennion sits in right armchair.) 

Mrs. K. I sometimes wonder whether we are quite 
right after all. 

(Mrs. Kennion ivipes her eyes. Mr. Kennion leans 
forward and pats her knee gently. They sit staring 
into the fire for a very long time ; silent, immobile. 
The curtain creeps down very, very slowly.) 







THE PLAYS OF ALFRED SUTRO. 



Paper, acting edition, is. 6d. net. Cloth, Library Edition, 
2s. 6d. net. 

THE FASCINATING MR. VANDERVELDT. 
A COMEDY IN FOUR ACTS, (Paper only. ) 

THE BARRIER. (Cloth only.) 

A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS. 

THE BUILDER OF BRIDGES. (Cloth only.) 
A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS. 

CAVE OF ILLUSION. (Cloth only.) 
A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS. 

JOHN GLAYDE'S HONOUR. (Cloth only.) 
A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS, 

MOLLENTRAVE ON WOMEN. 

A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS. 

THE PERFECT LOVER. 

A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS. 

THE WALLS OF JERICHO. 

A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS. 

The following One-Act Plays at 6d. each. 
CARROTS. 

THE CORRECT THING. 

ELLA'S APOLOGY. 

A GAME OF CHESS. 

THE GUTTER OF TIME. 

A MAKER OF MEN. 

THE MAN ON THE KERB, 

A MARRIAGE HAS BEEN ARRANGED, 

THE OPEN DOOR. 

MR. STEINMANN'S CORNER. 

THE SALT OF LIFE. 



THE PLAYS OF C. H ADDON CHAMBERS 

IS. 6d. each. 
THE AWAKENING. 
CAPTAIN SWIFT. 
THE IDLER. 
SIR ANTHONY. 
TYRANNY OF TEARS. 

THE PLAYS OF MARK AMBIENT. 

IS. 6d. each. 
OH, SUSANNAH ! 
SNUG LITTLE KINGDOM. 

THE PLAYS OF ARTHUR LAW. 

IS. 6d. each. 
COUNTRY MOUSE. 
NEW BOY. 

THE PLAYS OF JEROME K. JEROME. 

IS. 6d. each. 
MISS HOBBS. 
WOODBARROW FARM. 

BY ANTHONY HOPE. 

ADVENTURE OF LADY URSULA. 
PILKERTON'S PEERAGE. 



LONDON: SAMUEL FRENCH, LIMITED 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



'/. i'Hijti 



NOV 22 1910 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



014 678 252 8 ^l 



